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THE FIELD OF GLORY. 

AN HISTORICAL NOVEL. 


BY 

HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ. 


Translated from the Polish by Henry Britoff. 


Copyright, 1906, by 
J. S. Ogilyie Publishing Company. 


New York: 

J. S. OGILYIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
67 Bose Street. 



1 


LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

MAU 22 1906 

lyriernt Enw ^ 

CLASS '(£ 'XXC. No 

I 3 £ 3 >5 / 

COPY A, 




THE FIELD OF GLORY 


CHAPTER I. 

The winter of 1682 was so severe that even the oldest 
people could not remember another winter like it. Heavy 
rains' had fallen in the autumn, and the first frost broke 
out in the middle of November, locking up the rivers and 
covering the trees with glass-like shells. Icicles settled 
down on the pines in the forests and began to break the 
branches. In the first days of December birds began to 
flock into the villages and the cities, and even wild beasts 
came out from the forests and ran toward human habita- 
tions. 

On the 11 th of December the sky became overcast with 
clouds and snow fell for ten days in succession. It covered 
the earth as with a shroud, two feet thick; it covered the 
paths of the forests and the fences ; it covered the windows 
of the huts. People had to work their way through the 
snowbanks with shovels in order to reach their stables and 
barns ; and when, at last, the snow stopped falling, a severe 
frost came, so that the trees in the forest cracked with 
thunder which sounded like the roaring of cannon. 

When the peasants had to go to the forest for wood they 
went in crowds for safety’s sake, and even then they feared 
lest night should overtake them far away from the village. 

3 

* 


4 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


After sunset no one dared to come out even into his own 
yard without pitchforks or axes, and the dogs whined in 
short, abrupt, frightened barks, as they usually do at the 
approach of wolves. 

And yet on such a night as this a large coach on slides, 
drawn by four horses, and surrounded by people, was mak- 
ing its way through the forest. In front rode a servant on 
a strong mare, holding a long pole on which was fastened 
an iron scoop with a dry, pitchy chip of wood burning in 
it — not to illumine the road, for everything was illumi- 
nated by the moonlight, but in order to frighten away 
the wolves. On the coach-box sat the coachman, on 
the shaft-horse a postilion, and on the sides of the coach, 
on off-horses, rode two fellows armed with sling-shots. 

All this procession moved very slowly because of the high 
snowbanks, especially at the turns of the road. 

This slowness taxed the patience and at the same time 
caused uneasiness to Pan Gedeon Pongowski, who, count- 
ing upon the number of his armed servants, had resolved 
to start on the journey, although in Radom he had been 
warned of the danger, especially because he had to go 
through the dense forest of Kozeniz in order to reach Bel- 
chonchki. 

It had seemed to Pan Gedeon that if he left Radom before 
noon he would reach home before sunset. But it was neces- 
sary to clear the road, which took a few hours, so that even- 
ing was already closing in when they reached Yedlina. 
There they were again warned, and were advised to stay 
there over-night; but, as they found a wood-chip at the 
blacksmith’s with which to light the road, Pan Pongowski 
commanded to go on. 

And thus night came upon them while they were on the 
road. 

It was difficult to go fast. Pan Gedeon felt a greater 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


5 

and greater alarm, and finally he began to swear; but he 
did it in Latin, so as not to offend his relative, Pani 
Yinicka, and his adopted daughter, Panna Seninska, who 
were riding with him. 

Panna Seninska was not experiencing any especial fear. 
On the contrary, she pushed aside the leather curtain of the 
coach window and, ordering the servant riding alongside 
to move ahead so as not to obstruct the view from her, 
lookedvmt cheerfully upon the snowbanks and the trunks of 
the pines covered with long strips of snow, over which crept 
red reflections from the burning wood-chip, and which 
blended wonderfully with the green glitter of the moon. 
Then, folding her lips like a bird’s bill, she began to blow, 
and she was amused because she could see her breath, which 
assumed a pink hue. 

But the timid and aged Pani Vinicka began to grumble. 

“Why was it necessary to leave Radom, or, at least, why 
didn’t we stay over-night in Yedlina, where we were warned 
of danger? And all this merely out of obstinacy. It is 
quite a distance yet to Belchonchki, and all through the 
dense forest, where the wolves will surely bar the way, if 
the archangel Raphael, the protector of travelers, will not 
have mercy with those that have lost their way. They 
hardly deserve divine protection.” 

When Pan Pongowski heard this he flew into a passion. 
What else ? To say that they had lost their way ! 

The road was like an arrow, and as for the wolves — no 
one could tell whether they would bar the way or not. He 
had a sufficient number of servants with him, and, then, a 
wolf does not come out willingly to meet a soldier, not 
only because he fears him more than an ordinary person, 
but out of respect and because a wolf is a cunning beast. 

A wolf understands very well that neither a peasant nor 
a townsman will give him something for nothing, and onlj 


6 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


the warrior will sometimes give him a good treat; it is not 
in vain that people call war the wolfs harvest. 

Although Pan Pongowski spoke thus, and at the same 
time flattered somewhat the wolfs brood, he was not par- 
ticularly sure of the wolfish disposition. And he began 
to think whether he should not order one of the servants 
to dismount and sit down beside the young lady. In that 
event he himself would protect one door of the coach, the 
servant the other ; and, besides, the horse, left alone, would 
surely dart off backward or forward, and would thus lure 
away the wolves after him. 

But it seemed to Pan Gedeon that it was too early to 
take these precautions. 

In the meantime he put down on the front seat, near 
Panna Seninska, a pair of pistols and a knife, to have them 
in readiness. He had lost his right hand, so that he could 
manage things only with his left. 

They rode several hundred yards undisturbed. 

The road was becoming wider. 

Pongowski, who knew the road well, heaved a sigh of re- 
lief and said: 

“The Malikowa field is not far off.” 

He reasoned that, whatever might happen, the open field 
was better than the forest. 

But just at this moment the servant who was riding in 
front with the torch suddenly turned his horse, rushed 
over to the coach and began to say something to the coach- 
man and to the other servants quickly, and they answered 
abruptly, as people usually speak when there is no time 
to waste. 

“What’s the matter there?” asked Pan Pongowski. 

“We hear something from the side of the meadow.” 

“Wolves?” 

‘‘Some voices, God knows what it is,” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


7 

Pan Pongowski was about to give an order to the man 
with the torch to gallop ahead and see what was going 
there; but he reconsidered and decided that it was better 
not to remain without light in such a case, and that it was 
best to keep together in a crowd. Then he thought that 
it was easier to defend themselves in the open meadow than 
in the dense forest, and he commanded them to go ahead. 

But a minute later the servant again appeared at the 
window of the coach. 

“Wild boars, Pan,” he said. 

“Wild boars?” 

“A terrible grunting is heard on the right.” 

“Thank God !” 

“Perhaps wolves are after them.” 

“That’s why I said "Thank God !’ Let’s pass by without 
delay. March !” 

Indeed, the supposition of the servant proved to be cor- 
rect. 

Coming out on the meadow, the travelers noticed, at a 
distance of two or three flights of an arrow, on the right 
of the road, a crowd of wild boars huddled together, sur- 
rounded by a moving circle of wolves. The terrible grunt- 
ing, in which ferocity sounded rather than alarm, became 
clearer and clearer. When the coach came out in the mid- 
dle of the meadow the servants, watching from their sad- 
dles, noticed that the wolves did not dare attack the boars 
yet, but were only pressing closer and closer around them. 

The boars drew up in a circle, the young ones in the 
center, the older ones on the outside, thus forming a mov- 
able stronghold, terrible, invincible, fearless, their white 
tusks flashing. 

And between the circle of the wolves and the black mass 
of boars was a white circle of snow, bathed, like the whole 
meadow, in brilliant moonlight. 


8 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


Several of the wolves leaped toward the boars, but im- 
mediately retreated as though frightened by the fierce 
bursts of grunting. 

If the wolves had already attacked the boars the struggle 
would have kept them busy there, and the coach would have 
gone by undisturbed; but since this had not yet happened, 
there was the danger that the wolves might drop the peril- 
ous attack in order to undertake another one. 

And, indeed, a minute later a few wolves drew away 
from the rest and turned toward the coach. Soon others 
followed, but the sight of armed people stupefied them. 

Some began to pile up behind the coach; others ran in 
front of it or whirled about the coach wildly, as though 
they wished to excite themselves. 

The servants wanted to fire, but Pan Pongowski forbade 
it, for fear lest the shots should attract the rest of the 
wolves. 

In the meantime the horses, even though accustomed to 
wolves, began to press against one another and to turn 
their heads on the side with loud snorting, and a min- 
ute later happened something which increased the danger 
a hundredfold. 

The young off-horse, on which rode the servant with the 
torch, began to prance, and then dashed aside. 

The servant, realizing that he would be devoured by the 
wolves if he fell off the horse, grasped the bow ; but doing 
this, he let the scoop containing the torch fall, and it sank 
into the snow. 

The wood-chip blazed up, then died out, and now only 
the moonlight illumined the meadow. 

The coachman began to pray, while the servants began 
to swear. 

Encouraged by the darkness, the wolves closed in more 
persistently, and other wolves were coming from the side 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 9 

where the boars were. Some of them came very close, the 
bristles standing np on their backs, their teeth gnashing. 
The red and green lights flashed in their eyes. 

A desperate moment ensued. 

“ Shall we fire, sir ?" asked one of the servants. 

“Frighten them away by shouting,” answered Pan Pon- 
gowski. 

Immediately a shrill “A-goo ! a-goo !” smote the air. The 
horses regained courage, and the wolves, on whom human 
voices produce a strong impression, retreated a few steps. 

But something stranger still happened. 

The forest echo repeated the shouts with greater power, 
and suddenly peals of mad laughter resounded, and a min- 
ute later a crowd of men on horseback appeared on both 
sides of the coach and darted off at full speed toward the 
wild boars and the wolves around them. 

In an instant the boars and the wolves, unable to endure 
the attack, scattered over the meadow as if a whirlwind 
had dispersed them. Shots resounded and shouts, and 
again the same peals of some queer laughter. 

The servants of Pan Pongowski also rushed after the 
horsemen, so that only the coachman and one servant riding 
a side-horse remained near the coach. 

“Has help come from heaven?" exclaimed, at last, Pani 
Vinicka. 

“We must be thankful, wherever it came from,” replied 
Pan Pongowski. “We were in a bad fix.” 

And Panna Seninska, desiring to say something, added : 

“God has sent these young knights !” 

How Panna Seninska could conclude that they were 
knights, and young ones at that, it was difficult to tell, for 
they rushed past the coach like a whirlwind; but no one 
asked any questions about that, because they were too much 
agitated with what had happened. 


10 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


For several minutes the echoes of pursuit were still ring- 
ing in the air, and not far from the coach one wolf (his 
back was evidently broken by a sling-shot) sat on his hind 
paws and howled for pain so terribly that chills shot 
through every one’s frame. 

The postilion jumped from his horse and went over to 
kill him, for the horses began to jump about so that they 
had partly broken the shaft. 

After a little while the horse-division again appeared on 
the snow-covered plain. 

It now moved in a crowd, wrapped in mist; notwith- 
standing that the night was clear and transparent, the 
tired horses smoked in the cold like stove-chimneys. 

The riders were approaching with laughter and songs, 
and when they came near one of them advanced to the coach 
and asked, in a cheerful, ringing voice : 

“Who is going there ?” 

“Pongowski from Belchonchki. To whom am I indebted 
for saving us ?” 

“Ciprianowicz from Edlinka!” 

“And the Bukoyemskis !” 

“Thank you, gentlemen! God has sent you at the right 
moment. Thank you !” 

“Thank you !” repeated a young feminine voice. 

“Thank God that we came in time!” answered young 
Ciprianowicz, raising his fur cap. 

“How did you know about us?” 

“Nobody told us, but the wolves started out in a crowd, 
and we went out to save people, and since there is such a 
worthy personage among you our joy and pleasure before 
God is all the greater,” answered Ciprianowicz, kindly. 

And one of the Bukoyemskis added : 

“Not counting the hides.” 

“Really, it is indeed a knightly affair,” said Pan Gedeon. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY, 


11 

“and a fine act, for which, with God’s help, I shall return 
my thanks to you in the near future. Now, I think the 
wolves have lost their desire to have a taste of human flesh, 
and we will reach home safely.” 

“One cannot be sure about that. The wolves will doubt- 
less come together again and once more bar your way.” 

“Then there is no way out of it. But we shall not sur- 
render.” 

“There is a way, and that is, that we will escort you to 
your house. Perhaps we may save some other people on 
the way.” ** 

“I did not dare ask you to do that, but, since you are so 
kind, be it so, because the ladies with me will not be in 
such fear.” 

“I am not afraid as it is, but I am grateful to you with 
all my soul,” declared Panna Seninska. 

Pan Pongowski gave the order and all started off, but 
ere they had gone a few steps the shaft broke completely 
and the coach stopped, which caused a new delay. 

True, there were ropes, and the servants immediately be- 
gan to fasten together the broken parts of the shaft; but 
it was utterly improbable that the shaft would hold out 
with such hasty repairs. 

Then young Ciprianowicz thought a while, lifted his 
cap again and said : 

“It is nearer from here to Edlinka, through the forest, 
than to Belchonchki. Do us the honor and come to pass 
the night in our house. I do not know what will happen to 
us in the depth of the forest, and whether we will be able 
to cope with all the beasts which will surely come to- 
gether on the road. We’ll drag the coach away somehow 
or other, and the shorter the distance we have to drag it 
the better. To tell the truth, the honor you will thus bestow 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


12 

upon us will exceed our desert; but, as it is almost dura 
necessitas, we will not become overproud.” 

Pan Pongowski did not reply at once, because he felt a 
reproach in these words. 

He recalled that when the old man Ciprianowicz two 
years ago came to offer his compliments to him in Bel- 
chonchki Pan Gedeon received him kindly, but somewhat 
haughtily, and in his turn did not go to visit him, because 
he was “homo novus,” from a family to which gentry was 
granted but in the last generation, an Armenian by birth, 
whose grandfather had dealt in silk goods in Kamentz. 

The son of this dealer, Yakub, had served under the great 
Chudkiewicz in the artillery, and under Chutin rendered 
such important services that by the recommendation of 
Stanislavus Lubomirski he was made a noble and was given 
the royal estate Edlinka as a life estate. Then, during the 
life of his successor, Seraffn, the life estate was mortgaged. 

The young man who came with such kind aid was the son 
of Serafin. 

And Pan Pongowski felt the reproach all the more be- 
cause the words “we will not become overproud” were ut- 
tered by the young Ciprianowicz somewhat haughtily and 
with intentional emphasis. 

But, properly speaking, it was just this knightly pride 
that appealed to the old nobleman ; and, as it was hard for 
him to refuse his savior, and as the road to Belchonchki 
was really long and unsafe, he hesitated no longer, and 
said : 

“Without your aid the wolves would perhaps have been 
fighting now over our bones. Allow me to repay you at 
least with the pleasure with which I accept your offer. Let 
us go !” 

Ciprianowicz gave commands to get ready to start. 

The shaft was broken as if souiq one had chopped it with 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


13 


an ax. They tied one end of the rope to the sledge-slides, 
the other to the saddles, and courageously started off, while 
the riders shouted and the Bukoyemskis sang. 

Edlinka was not far away. Presently a vast meadow 
opened before the travelers, rather a huge field surrounded 
by dense forests, and upon it were a few houses, the roofs 
of which, covered with snow, flashed and sparkled in the 
moonlight. 

A little distance away from the peasants’ huts were farm- 
houses situated in a ring about a yard, and in the distance 
was the master’s house, quite ungainly looking, built by 
Ciprianowicz from a little house in which a forester had 
lived once upon a time, but which was still too large for 
such a little village. 

From the windows of the house came a bright light, red- 
dening the snow at the entrance hall, the bushes which were 
growing in front of the house and the well-cranes which 
protruded on the right side of the entrance. 

Evidently old Ciprianowicz was expecting his son, and 
perhaps even guests from the road, because as soon as the 
coach reached the gate several servants with torches ran 
out on the entrance stairway, and after the servants came 
the master himself, in a marten fur coat and a fitchew cap, 
which he removed as soon as he sighted the coach. 

“Who are the dear guests God has sent us into our 
thicket?” he asked, descending the stairway. 

Young Ciprianowicz kissed his father’s hand and in- 
formed him whom he brought with him; and Pan Pon- 
gowski, stepping out of the coach, said : 

“I have long wished to do that which painful circum- 
stances have now compelled me to do, and I thank all the 
more the opportunity which coincides also with my wish.” 

“People are subject to various adventures, but to me 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


T4 

your adventure is good fortune, wherefore I am glad to in- 
vite you to my house.” 

Saying this. Pan Serafin bowed again and extended his 
hand to Pani Vinicka, after whom all the others entered 
the house. 

And immediately the guests were seized with a. feeling of 
comfort, which is usually the case with travelers who come 
from darkness and cold into warm and well-lighted rooms. 
Indeed, there was a bright fire in the fireplaces, in the hall 
way, and in the other chambers, and, besides, the servants 
began to light candles everywhere. 

Pan Pongowski looked around with a certain degree of 
surprise, because the average homes of the nobility were 
far from being luxurious, while luxuries were plainly in 
evidence in Ciprianowicz’s house. 

By the light of the flames in the fireplaces and of the 
candles in all the chambers he saw things such as were not 
to be found in every castle : Italian chests and chairs made 
of carved wood, here and there clocks and Venetian glass, 
candelabra of perfect copper, Oriental arms studded with 
turquoise and hung about on embroidered rugs. On the 
floors lay little, soft Crimean rugs. 

“IPs all left over from the times when they were mer- 
chants,” thought Pan Pongowski, with a shade of anger; 
“and now they can turn up their noses before our nobility 
and pride themselves on their wealth, which was acquired 
not with weapons in their hands.” 

But the kindness and the sincere hospitality of the Cip- 
rianowiczs disarmed the old nobleman, and when, a little 
later, he heard the rattle of dishes in the adjoining room 
he at once found himself altogether in a good-natured 
state of mind. 

In order to warm up the guests who had come from the 
cold, hot wine, flavored with spices, was served. A con- 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


15 


versation was started about the danger that had just been 
escaped. Pan Pongowski praised the young Ciprianowicz, 
who, instead of sitting in a warm room, was saving people 
on the roads, in spite of the fierce frosts, the fatigue and 
the danger. 

“True,” he said, “those glorious knights acted thus in 
days gone by who traveled about the world, guarding people 
from serpents, dragons and all sorts of evil things.” 

“If one of them ever succeeded in saving such a beauti- 
ful princess,” replied the young Ciprianowicz, “then he was 
just as happy as we are at the present moment.” 

“True! Nobody has ever saved a more beautiful one! 
I swear by God, you have said the truth!” exclaimed the 
four brothers Bukoyemski enthusiastically. 

Panna Seninska smiled gently, so that two little dimples 
appeared on her cheeks, and then she lowered her eyes. 

To Pan Pongowski, however, this compliment seemed to 
be rather over-familiar, because Panna Seninska,, though 
an orphan, and without any means, belonged to a family 
of magnates. He turned the conversation into another 
channel and asked : 

“Is it long since you have started to go out on the roads?” 

“Since the heavy snow fell, and we will continue until 
the frosts cease,” replied young Stanislav Ciprianowicz. 

“Have you killed many wolves?” 

“Enough for fur coats for all of us.” 

At this point the Bukoyemskis began to laugh, and when 
they became quiet the oldest, Yan, said : 

“His Highness the King will be satisfied with his for- 
esters.” 

“True,” said Pan Pongowski. “Yes; I have heard that 
you are the foresters in this royal forest. But the Bukoyem- 
skis are from Ukraine by birth, are they not?” 

“We are of those Bukoyemskis.” 


16 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“So, so! A fine family, Elo-Bukoyemski. You have 
there some kinship to the great families.” 

“And to St. Peter!” exclaimed Lukash Bukoyemski. 

“Ah?” Pan Pongowski inquired over again. 

And he began to look at the four brothers sternly and 
suspiciously, as though desiring to find out whether they 
allowed themselves to make sport of him. But the brothers’ 
faces were clear, and they shook their heads with profound 
conviction, thus affirming what they said. At last Pan 
Pongowski asked, with extreme amazement: 

“Relatives of St. Peter? A quo modoV y 

“Through the Przhegonowskis.” 

“What have the Przhegonowskis to do with that?” 

“Through the Uswiats.” 

“And the Uswiats again through somebody else,” said 
the old noble, with a smile, “and so on up to the birth of 
the Lord Christ. So! It is good to have relatives in the 
earthly senate; how much more so in the heavenly! But 
how did you manage to come from the Ukraine to our 
Kozeniz forest, for I have heard that you have lived here 
several years already?” 

“Three years. The rebellion has long ago leveled our 
Ukraine estates to the ground, and then the border has 
changed there. We did not want to serve in the division 
of the Tartars, the pagans, and we first served in our army, 
then we leased land, and then our relative, Pan Malchinski, 
has appointed us as foresters here.” 

“Yes,” said old Ciprianowicz ; “one thing seems strange 
to me : how we all came together here in this dense forest ; 
for we all come from other places — the inconstancy of 
human fate has brought us together. Your estates” — he 
turned to Pan Pongowski — “as far as I know, are in 
Russia.” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 17 

Pan Pongowski trembled at this as if some one had 
touched an unhealed wound of his. 

“Yes, I had estates there,” he said; “but those places 
became odious to me, because misfortunes struck me there 
like lightnings.” 

“IPs God’s will,” replied Ciprianowicz. 

“Of course, it is hard to struggle against it, but it was 
also hard to live there.” 

“As we know, you have served in the army for a long 
time.” 

“Until I lost my arm. I took vengeance both for my 
fatherland and for myself. And if the Lord Jesus will for- 
give me at least one sin for each heathen head, then I enter- 
tain the hope that I may never see hell.” 

“Of course, of course! Serving one’s fatherland is a 
desert, and misfortune is a desert. It is best to avoid sad 
thoughts.” 

“I would be glad to run from them, but they don’t want 
to run from me. But enough about this. When I became 
a cripple, and at the same time the guardian of this girl, 
I settled down in a quiet place in my declining days, where 
the Tartars never come, and I stay, as you see, in Bel- 
chonchki.” 

“You’re right. I do the same,” said old Ciprianowicz. 
“The young people, although it is peaceful now, seeking 
adventures, are yearning for the broad road; but, never- 
theless, those lands where everybody is mourning for some- 
body are terrible and dismal.” 

Pan Pongowski lifted his hand to his forehead and held 
it there for a long time ; and then he said, in a sad voice : 

“It is true that in those lands either a peasant or a mag- 
nate can live — a peasant, because, should there be a heathen 
invasion, he would run to the woods and could* live there 
like a wild beast for months; and the magnate, because he 


18 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


has fortified castles and regiments of his own to protect 
him. And then everything happens! There were the 
Zhulkevskis that perished ; there were the Danilovichs that 
perished. Of the Sobieskis, the brother of our happily 
reigning King Yan perished. And how many others ! One 
of the Wisnewec-kis was dangling on the hook in Stambul ; 
Korezki was beaten to death with iron rods; the Kalikow- 
skis perished, and before that the Gerburts and Yazloweckis 
paid their tribute in blood. At different times some of the 
Seninskas, who had once upon a time had in their posses- 
sion that entire land, fell. What a cemetery it is! If I 
were to enumerate them all it would take me until morn- 
ing. And if I were to enumerate not the magnates alone, 
but also the noblemen, a month would hardly be sufficient.” 

“True, true ! But it is amazing how the Lord has multi- 
plied this Turkish and Tartar foulness; for so many of 
them were killed that when the peasant harrows in the 
spring he comes upon heathen skulls at every step. 0 Lord, 
my God ! How many of them were killed, say, by our 
present King ! There was enough blood there to fill a river, 
and they lie there and lie.” 

That was true. 

The republic, torn asunder by the disorders and the in- 
subordination of the nobility, could not support a strong 
army, which could have been able in one great war once 
for all to make an end to the Turkish-Tartar invasions. 

All Europe could not produce such an army. 

Therefore was this republic inhabited by boisterous peo- 
ple who had not the slightest desire to stretch out their 
necks under the knife of the Eastern plunderers. On the 
contrary, ever new streams of Polish settlers, attracted not 
so much by the fertile soil as by the thirst of constant war- 
fare and adventures, rushed forth upon this terrible border 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


19 

field which was covered with graves and soaked in blood — 
that is, Podolia, Ukraine and Central Russia. 

“The Poles,” wrote an ancient historian — Kromer — “go 
to Russia to contend with the Tartars.” 

Thus peasants came from Mazovia; military nobles, who 
were ashamed “to die a peaceful death on their beds,” came ; 
at last mighty magnates developed in these lands, and, not 
confining themselves to keeping the defensive at home, 
often went far, far away, to Crimea, to Walkhia, to seek 
there for power, victories, death, eternal salvation and 
glory. 

It was even said that the Poles did not want one great 
war, but that they wanted to take advantage of it all the 
time. And though this was not true, nevertheless the fiery 
tribe was pleased with constant disorders, and the Tartars 
sometimes paid in blood for their audacity. 

Neither the lands of Dobruzhia, nor those of Akkerman, 
and still less the fruitless Crimean reeds, could support 
their savage inhabitants, and hunger drove them toward 
the fertile frontier, where a rich booty awaited them, and 
often, also, death. 

The redness of the sky caused by the fires illumined there 
the battles which are not recorded in history. Separate 
regiments reduced to dust the Tartars, who outnumbered 
them ten to one. Only the amazing rapidity of their move- 
ments saved the plunderers, but in general every Tartar 
overtaken by the regular army of the republic was doomed 
to death, without the hope of ever saving himself. 

There were expeditions — especially those made up of but 
few men — from which not one returned to Crimea. There 
was a time when the names of Pretwiz and Chmeletzki 
were terrible to the Tartars and the Turks. Of the second- 
ary knights the following were written upon their memory 
in blood : Wolodiewski, Pelka and the elder Rushchiz, who 


20 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


reposed in their graves for several years. But no one had 
shed as much blood of the followers of Islam as the present 
King, Yan III. Sobieski. 

Near Podgaitzi, Kalush, Chutin and Lwowo lay to this 
day unburied heaps of heathen bones whitening the vast 
fields as with snow. 

But at length terror seized all the hordes. 

Then those at the frontier heaved a sigh of relief, and 
■when the insatiable Turkish power began to seek easier 
conquests the entire exhausted republic heaved a sigh of 
relief, and only painful recollections remained. 

Far from the present nook of the Ciprianowiczs, on a 
hillock, stood a tall cross with two spears. Twenty years 
ago Pan Pongowski erected it there in the place of a house 
which had been destroyed by fire, and whenever he thought 
of this cross and of all the dear beings he had lost on that 
place his old heart contracted with pain. 

But he was stern with his own self as with, others; he 
was ashamed of shedding tears before strangers; he could 
not bear cheap commiseration, and did not care to speak 
any more about his misfortunes. So he began to question 
his host as to how he was getting along in the forest. 

The host replied : 

“It is quiet here, quiet ! When the pines make no noise 
and the wolves do not howl, then we can hear the snow fall- 
ing. We have tranquillity ; we have a fire in the fireplace 
and a jug of warm wine in the evening, and old age re- 
quires nothing more.” 

“True. But your son?” 

“The young bird will sooner or later fly away from the 
nest. The old trees are murmuring something about a great 
war with the pagans.” 

“The old falcons will also fly out to this war. I, too, 
would have gone out with the rest if not for this.” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 21 

Pan Pongowski shook his empty sleeve, in which but a 
small piece of his arm remained. 

Ciprianowicz poured out some wine. 

“For the victory of Christian arms !” 

“God grant it !” 

In the meantime the young Ciprianowicz poured out 
wine from the steaming jug for Pani Vinicka, Panna 
Seninska and the four brothers Bukoyemski. The ladies 
scarcely touched the brims of the goblets with their lips, 
therefore the Bukoyemskis did not have to be entreated, 
wherefore the world grew to them ever more cheerful from 
minute to minute and Panna. Seninska ever more beautiful. 

At last the oldest, Yan, said : 

“It is not surprising that the wolves wanted to devour 
you ; although a wolf is a wild beast, still he knows a good 
thing.” 

The other Bukoyemskis, Matvey, Marek and Lukash, even 
struck themselves on the knees for joy., 

“That’s true !” 

“You’ve hit the right point!” 

“Of course!”*' 

Hearing this, Panna Seninska folded her hands and, 
fugning a frightened air, said to the young Ciprianowicz : 

“Save me, for I see that your guests have saved me from 
the wolves so that they could devour me themselves!” 

“Oh, no,” answered Ciprianowicz, cheerfully. “Pan Yan 
Bukoyemski said that the wolves were not to be wondered 
at, and I say that the Bukoyemskis are not to be won- 
dered at for desiring to devour you.” 

“Then I shall begin to pray: ‘Under Thy protec- 
tion ’ ” 

“Only don’t be scoffing at sacred things!” exclaimed 
Pani Vinicka. 


22 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“These knights are ready to devour auntie together with 
me. Isn’t it so ?” 

But this question remained unanswered for a minute. 
It was evident by the faces of the Bukoyemskis that they 
felt a smaller desire for that. But Lukash, who was more 
quick-witted than his brothers, said : 

“Let Yan answer — he is the oldest brother.” 

Yan became somewhat confused, but said, nevertheless: 
“Who knows what will happen to-morrow?” 

“A true remark,” said Ciprianowicz; “but what bearing 
has it to this question?” 

“What?” 

“Nothing. I merely asked you why you mentioned to- 
morrow.” 

“Don’t you know that feelings are worse than wolves, for 
you can kill a wolf, while you cannot kill the feeling.” 

“I know it, but this is a different story.” 

Panna Seninska began to giggle in her hand, then Cipri- 
anowicz followed, and finally the Bukoyemskis began to 
giggle. But the servant calling to supper interrupted the 
conversation. 

The old Ciprianowicz offered his arm to Pani Yinicka 
and the young man led away Panna Seninska. 

“It is hard to argue with Pan Bukoyemski,” remarked 
the girl, merrily. 

“Because his opinions are like unruly horses, each of 
which pulls in a different direction. Nevertheless, he 
uttered two truths, with which it is impossible to disagree.” 

“What is the first tyuth?” 

“That no one knows what to-morrow is to bring him, as, 
for instance, I did not know that my eyes would meet you 
to-day.” 

“And the other?” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


23 

“That it is easier to kill a wolf than a feeling. This is a 
great truth !” 

Having said this, young Ciprianowicz heaved a sigh, and 
she lowered her heavy eyelashes and maintained silence. 

And only when they seated themselves by the table she 
said: 

“How soon do you expect to come to Belchonchki, that 
my guardian may return thanks to you for saving and en- 
tertaining us ?” 

The morose frame of mind of Pan Pongowski disap- 
peared to a great extent during supper, and when the host 
pronounced in chosen expressions a toast for the health 
of the ladies, and then for that of his honorable guest, the 
old nobleman responded very kindly, thanking him for 
having been saved from danger and assuring him of his 
eternal gratitude. 

Then the conversation turned de publicis; they spoke of 
the King, of his triumphs, of the meeting that was to be 
held in April, and of the war which theatened the German 
Empire from the side of the Turkish Sultan, and for which 
the Maltan cavalier, Gieronim Lubomirski, was already 
gathering volunteers in Poland. 

The Bukoyemskis listened with great interest to how 
every Pole was received in Germany with open arms, be- 
cause the Turks regarded the German cavalry with con- 
tempt, while the Polish cavalry called forth in them due 
fear. 

Pan Pongowski censured somewhat the pride of Cavalier 
Lubomirski, who said of the German counts, “A dozen of 
them can creep into one of my gloves” ; but he praised his 
knightly qualities and his great experience in the arts of 
warfare. 

Lukash Bukoyemski, on hearing this, announced in his 
own name and in the name of his brothers that at the ad- 


24 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


vent of spring they will start off to the cavalier, but while 
the frosts last they will continue to kill wolves in order to 
avenge Panna Seninska. And though Yan had said that 
he did not wonder at the wolves, he (Lukash), whenever 
he thought that such an innocent little dove could become 
their victim, then his heart contracted with rage, and at the 
same time it was hard for him to restrain his tears. 

It was a pity, he said, that wolves’ hides were so cheap, 
and that the Jews hardly gave a dollar for three of them; 
but it was hard to restrain the tears, and it was even better 
to give vent to them, because if some one would not feel 
sorry for oppressed innocence and virtue, he would prove 
to be a barbarian, unworthy of the title of knight and noble. 

Saying this, he indeed gave vent to his tears, and the 
other brothers followed his example. Although the wolves 
in the worst case could threaten the life and by no means 
the innocence of Panna Seninska, still, the eloquence of 
Lukash moved his brothers so much that their hearts soft- 
ened like molten wax. 

They even wanted to fire shots from their pistols in 
honor of Panna Seninska, but the master of the house ob- 
jected to this on the ground that there was a sick forester 
in the house, a worthy man, and one requiring quiet. 

Pan Pongowski thought that it must be some poor rela- 
tive, a noble, and, out of politeness, began to question him 
about the man ; but when he learned that the man in ques- 
tion was a plain peasant, who had been in the employ of 
Ciprianowicz, he shrugged his shoulders, looked at the host 
with surprise, and said : 

“ Oh, yes ! I have almost forgotten what they say about 
your too kind heart.” 

“I hope to God that nothing bad has been said about 
me!” answered Pan Serafin. “I am very much indebted 
to this man, and, besides, he may be of use to anybody, for 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


25 


he is familiar with all varieties of herbs and is of great 
help in every disease.” 

“But one thing surprises me — why can’t he cure himself 
if he can cure others? Send him over some time to my 
relative, Pani Vinicka, who makes all sorts of extracts 
from herbs and tortures people with them. But it is time 
to think about resting, because the journey has fatigued 
me terribly, and the wine has made me somewhat tipsy, 
just as it has made the Bukoyemskis.” 

And, indeed, the Bukoyemskis’ heads were reeling, and 
their eyes were dim and excited, and when the young Cip- 
rianowicz accompanied them to the wing of the house where 
he was to pass the night with them they walked unsteadily 
over the creaking snow, surprised why the moon was laugh- 
ing at them from the roof of the bam, instead of shining 
in the sky. 

But Panna Seninska was so deeply rooted in their hearts 
that they wanted to talk more of her. 

At last the oldest brother, Yan, heaved a deep sigh; then 
he blew at the fireside with such force that the fire trem- 
bled, and he said : 

“0 Jesus! My dear brethren! Weep for me, because a 
terrible moment has begun for me !” 

“ What moment ? Speak ; conceal not ! ” 

“I love so that my knees are bending.” 

“And I, do you think I do not love?” exclaimed Lukash. 

“And I ?” shouted Matvey. 

“And 1 ?” concluded Marek. 

Yan was about to say something in reply, but could not 
do it at once, because he began to feel bad. He merely 
opened his eyes wide with great amazement and began to 
examine them as though he now saw them for the first 
time. 

Pinally anger was mirrored in his face* 


26 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“What, you scoundrels ! he shouted ; “you want to stand 
in the way of your oldest brother and deprive him of his 
happiness ?” 

“How important!” answered Lukash. “What of it? Is 
Panna Seninska a majorat that she should belong to the 
oldest brother only ? We were born of one father and one 
mother, consequently if you insult us you are disturbing 
our parents’ bones in their graves. Everybody is allowed 
to love.” 

“True; but beware, because you are obliged to me obedi - 
entiam .” 

“To bow to a donkey’s head all life long? Is that it?” 

“You are a heathen. You are scoffing at sacred things, 
like a dog.” 

“You are scoffing at sacred things yourself. Jacob was 
younger than Esau, and Joseph was the youngest of the 
brethren; consequently you slander the Holy Scriptures 
and you bark at religion.” 

Yan, forced to the wall by these arguments, was not 
ready to make reply at once, and when Matvey added some- 
thing about Cain he lost his head completely. 

His anger was growing more and more intense, and 
finally he began to feel for his sword, which was fastened 
to his side. 

It is hard to tell how this affair would have ended, if 
it had not been for Marek, who seemed to have been wrest- 
ling with a certain thought all the while, and who finally 
exclaimed, in a thundering voice : 

“I am the youngest of you; I am Joseph, consequently 
Panna Seninska is mine!” 

The others turned to him with indignation and with 
wildly flashing eyes: 

“What? Yours? Yours, you goose-egg, you straw-doll, 
you horse-glanders, you drunkard! Yours?” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


27 

“Shut your mouth; so say the Scriptures.” 

“Which Scriptures, you fool?” 

“It makes no difference which Scriptures, but that’s what 
they say. You are drunkards yourselves, not I.” 

But at this point Stanislav Ciprianowicz interfered. 

“Aren’t you ashamed?” he said. “You are brothers, 
nobles, and yet you start a fight. Is this the way you look 
upon brotherly love ? And what’s the quarrel about ? What 
is Panna Seninska? Is she a mushroom which falls into 
the bag of him who finds it first in the forest ? Remember 
the custom which exists among the pelicans. Not only are 
they not nobles, they are not even human beings; but on 
account of the feeling of kinship they yield to one another 
in everything, and when they catch no fishes they feed each 
other on their own flesh. You speak of your parents, but 
they are now shedding tears, seeing the quarrel of their 
sons, of whom they must have asked something else in their 
blessing before they died. The very joys of paradise are 
not sweet to them now, and they cannot lift their eyes to 
those four evangelists whose names were given to you at 
the holy baptism.” 

Thus spoke Stashko Ciprianowicz, and though at first 
he felt like laughing, he was carried away by his own elo- 
quence as he spoke, notwithstanding that he was somewhat 
tipsy himself. But the Bukoyemskis were in the end so 
touched by his speech that all four burst into tears, and the 
oldest, Yan, exclaimed: 

“Oh, for God’s sake, kill me, but don’t call me Cain !” 

At this Matvey, who had mentioned Cain, rushed into 
his embrace. 

“Brother, I deserve to be turned over to the hangman!” 

“Forgive me, or I will burst with grief!” implored 
Lukash. 

And Marek kept repeating: 


28 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“I have slandered the commandments like a dog! 

And they began to embrace one another. But Yan, free- 
ing himself at last from his brothers’ embraces, suddenly 
seated himself on a bench, unbuttoned his coat, tore his 
shirt, and, uncovering his chest, said, in a broken voice: 

“ Here it is for you ! Like a pelican ! Take !” 

The other brothers began to sob still louder. 

“A pelican! A real pelican! By God, a pelican!” 

“Take Panna Seninska!” 

“She is yours ! You take her !” 

“Let the younger ones take her!” 

“Never ! It can’t be !” 

“Let her go ! We don’t want her at all !” 

Suddenly Lukash struck himself on the hips so that the 
echo resounded in the room. 

“I know !” he cried. 

“What do you know? Speak — conceal not!” 

“Let Ciprianowicz take her!” 

The other Bukoyemskis jumped up from their benches 
for joy, so much did the words of Lukash appeal to their 
hearts, and they surrounded Ciprianowicz. 

“Take her, Stashko ! You will thus reconcile us the bet- 
ter ! Do it for our sake !” 

“May God bless you!” exclaimed Yan, lifting his eyes 
heavenward and outstretching his hands over Ciprianowicz. 

And Ciprianowicz reddened, overwhelmed by astonish- 
ment, and only kept repeating: 

“Fear the Lord !” 

But his heart trembled in his breast at the mere thought 
of it, for, staying with his father in this forsaken, dense 
forest, and mingling little with the outside world in gen- 
eral, it was a long time since he had seen such a charming 
girl. 

He had seen such girls in Bzhezhani, whither his father 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


29 


had sent him to be polished and to gain a familiarity with 
public affairs ; but at that time he was a mere boy, and time 
had long since effaced these impressions. 

He became terribly confused, and repeated once more : 

“Fear the Lord ! How do you or I come up to her?” 

But the Bukoyemskis, as is usually the case with intoxi- 
cated people, would not notice any obstacles, and began 
to argue. 

“Hone of us will be jealous, and you had better take 
her,” insisted Lukash. “We intended to go to war, any- 
way ; we have been watching the forest long enough. Thirty 
dollars for a whole God’s year ! It isn’t enough for drink, 
to say nothing of other things. We sold our horses, we 
sold everything else. We use your horses when we go after 
wolves ” 

“Everybody knows that orphans must suffer. It is better 
to die in the war! And you had better take her, if you 
love us.” 

“Take her,” exclaimed Yan, “and we will at once start 
off to Cavalier Lubomirski, to kill the pagans.” 

But Ciprianowicz already came to himself and sobered 
up as though he had not touched a drop of wine since 
morning. 

“Consider what you are saying. Is my desire or yours 
sufficient for this? And she herself, and Pan Pongowski, 
who is a proud and intractable man? Even if the Panna 
would in time become my friend, he would, perhaps, prefer 
to have her work in the field rather than to see her mar- 
ried to such a poor fellow like me or one of you.” 

“Is that so?” exclaimed Yan. “And Pan Pongowski 
himself — what is he, a great hetman? Is it not enough 
that the Bukoyemskis will come to him as suitors? Let 
him beware! He is old, death is not far away; St. Peter 
may jam the old fellow’s fingers in the gates of heaven. 


30 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


Take our part, 0 St. Peter, and say to him: ‘Yon were 
not kind to my kinsmen during your life, therefore you’ll 
have to kiss the dog in the snout/ Tell it to him after his 
death. But we will not permit him to scoff at us, anyway. 
How ? Only because we have no riches we will be treated 
with disdain and dealt with roughly, like slaves! Is this 
the reward for our service to the country, for our blood, 
for our wounds ? Oh, my brethren ! God’s orphans ! more 
than one injustice came across us during our life, but 
none was more severe than this !” 

“True, true !” replied Lukash, Marek and Matvey, plain- 
tively. 

And again tears gushed abundantly down their cheeks. 
But soon the Bukoyemskis grew indignant once more: it 
seemed to them that nobles could not leave such an insult 
unpunished. 

Marek, the most impetuous of the brothers, was the first 
to remind them about it. 

“It is inconvenient to call him out to fight a duel with 
swords,” he said, “because he is old and he has but one 
arm; but if he should slight us we must take vengeance. 
What are we to do?” 

“Well, this we’ll decide to-morrow,” said Ciprianowicz. 
“ The fire has gone out in the fireplace, and it is past mid- 
night. Our beds are made near the wall, and we must take 
a rest, for we worked enough during the day in the cold.” 

Indeed, the fire had gone out, and it became dark in the 
room, so that the host’s advice suited the Bukoyemskis. 

The conversation continued for another minute,, but it 
became more and more languid; then whispered prayers, 
interrupted by deep sighs, were heard in the room. 

The wood in the fireplace was now covered with ashes, 
and it began to ttirn black; from time to time something 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


31 

creaked in the smouldering fire-sticks, and a cricket in the 
corner answered in a plaintive voice. 

Then resounded the noise caused by boots thrown down 
on the floor, then a brief silence followed, and soon a loud 
snoring of the four brethren filled the room. 

But the young Ciprianowicz could not fall asleep, be- 
cause all his thoughts were turning around Panna Senin- 
ska, like bees around a flower. True, he closed his eyes once 
or twice, but saw that it was of no avail, and he thought : 

‘Til go out and see whether there is a light in her room 
yet.” 

And he went out. 

There was no light in the windows of Panna Seninska’s 
room, and only the light of the moon quivered upon the 
uneven window-panes as upon running water. 

The entire world was hushed in such deep slumber that 
even the snow seemed to have fallen asleep in the greenish 
abyss of the moonlight. 

“Do you know that you are paradise to me?” whispered 
the young Ciprianowicz, gazing at the silvery window of 
the girl. 

The old Pan Ciprianowicz, being naturally hospitable, 
spared no entreaties and adjurations to have the guests 
stay as long as possible in Edlinka, He even knelt before 
Pani Vinicka, which was not a very easy thing for him 
to do, because he was suffering from a slight but neverthe- 
less annoying attack of gout. But the entreaties were of 
no avail. Pan Pongowski persisted in having his way — to 
leave at noon for home ; and in the end they had to consent 
to it, especially because, according to his words, he was 
expecting certain guests. And thus he started out before 
noon. It was a cold, clear day. The weather was admir- 
able. The icicles on the trees and the snow in the fields 
were covered with thousands of sparks, which glittered in 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


32 

the sun so brilliantly that the eyes could hardly bear the 
glare which was reflected both from the sky and the earth. 
The horses went at a lively pace, the sleigh-slides creaked 
upon the hardened snow ; the curtains of the coach-windows 
were drawn aside, and every now and then the pink, little 
face of Panna Seninska, with cheerful eyes and her little 
nose reddened from the frost, looked out of the window — a 
really charming little portrait in a frame. And she rode 
like a princess, for the coach was surrounded by “honor- 
able guards,” composed of the Bukoyemskis and the young 
Ciprianowicz. The young people, seated on fine horses 
belonging to the estate of Edlinka (for the Bukoyemskis had 
either sold or pawned their own horses), caracoled beside 
the coach, now throwing their horses on their haunches, 
now letting them go ahead at such speed that lumps of 
snow, torn from the frozen ground by the hoofs of the 
horses, whistled in the air like a stone hurled with force. 

Pan Pongowski was, perhaps, not particularly pleased 
with these “honorable guards,” and before starting even 
asked the knights not to trouble themselves, because the 
road was safe in the daytime, and that there were no rob- 
bers in these forests; but when the knights insisted that 
they must escort the ladies, Pan Pongowski had no other 
way but, paying politeness in return for politeness, to in- 
vite them to Belchonchki. He was also promised by the 
old Ciprianowicz that he would visit Belchonchki within a 
few days, for, being an old man, it was not so easy for him 
to leave the house at once. 

The journey progressed imperceptibly ; the knights exer- 
cised their skill on horseback, while Panna Seninska kept 
exhibiting her little face in the coach-windows. They 
stopped, after covering half the way, in order to rest their 
horses at the inn bearing the rather ominous name “Brig- 
andage.” Next to the inn was a blacksmith’s shop. The 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 33 

blacksmith was at this time shoeing horses, and near the 
inn stood several peasant sleds and thin, poor horses. 

Various people flocked out of the inn to look at the coach, 
which was surrounded by men on horseback, and they 
stopped a little distance away. Those were not peasants, 
but townspeople from Koseniz, who made pots in the sum- 
mer, and who traveled from village to village in the winter 
selling their wares, especially during certain holidays. It 
seemed to them that some great dignitary was in the coach, 
so they removed their caps and looked on with great 
interest. 

The occupants of the coach, warmly clad, did not come 
out; the riders also remained on their horses; only Pan 
Pongowski’s servant went to the inn with a bottle of wine 
to warm it there. In the meantime Pan Pongowski called 
the potters over to the coach and began to question them : 
whence they were coming, whither they were going, and 
whether they had not met danger on the road. 

“Oh, no; no danger threatened us, your lordship !” re- 
plied an old man. “But we go in a crowd, and by day. We 
are awaiting here our people from Pshitik and other 
places. The peasants may also come in time, and if we’ll 
have fifteen or twenty cart-loads, then we’ll travel at night, 
also; if not, we won’t, although we never start without 
sticks.” 

“So nothing has happened on the roads?” 

“ One Jew was devoured by wolves in broad daylight. He 
had geese in his wagon : nothing but the feathers remained 
on the road, and of the man and horse nothing but the 
bones were left. And this morning a noble came here on 
foot; he sat all night long in a pine-tree. He says that his 
horse fell, and that wolves tore him to pieces before his 
eyes. He became so stiff in the tree that he can hardly 
talk, and now he is sleeping.” 


34 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


Pan Pongowski turned to the knights : 

“Do yon hear, gentlemen ?” 

“Yes.” 

“We’ll have to wake him up and ask him. He remained 
without a horse — how can we leave him here? My servant 
could sit down together with the postilion on one of the 
off-horses, and we could thus spare a horse for the poor 
fellow. You say he is a Polish noble. Perhaps he is from 
afar.” 

“And he must have been hastening somewhere, since he 
rode at night and alone,” said Stanislav Ciprianowicz. 
“I’ll go and wake him up and find out.” 

But this proved superfluous, because at this moment the 
servant came out with the tray, on which were goblets of 
steaming wine, and, nearing the coach, said : 

“Allow me to announce to your lordship that Pan 
Tachewski is here.” 

“Pan Tachewski? How the deuce did he come here?” 

“Pan Tachewski?” repeated Panna Seninska. 

“He is getting ready and will come out right away,” 
explained the servant. “He almost upset my tray when 
he learned that you were here.” 

“And who was asking you about the tray?” 

The servant became silent, as though he had lost his 
voice; and Pan Pongowski took a goblet of wine, took one 
draught, then another, and said to Ciprianowicz, with 
some dissatisfaction: 

“It is an acquaintance of ours — and — somewhat of a 
neighbor — from Charna — and, to a certain degree, a mad- 
cap and a hare-brained fellow — of those Tachewskis who 
once upon a time were almost in the entire command of 
the army ” 

The explanation was interrupted by the appearance of 
Pan Tachewski, who advanced to the coach with rapid 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


35 


strides, but with a shade of timidity on his face. He was 
a young man of medium height, with beautiful black eyes, 
thin as a rake, and his head was covered with a cap which 
must have remembered the days of Bathory. He had on a 
gray coat lined with sheepskin, and yellow Swedish boots 
with huge boot-legs, reaching up to his hips. In Poland 
nobody wore such boots any more: evidently they were a 
war trophy of the times of Yan Kasimir, now taken from 
the warehouse because of necessity. As he advanced he 
looked alternately at Pan Pongowski and at Panna Se- 
ninska, and smiled, thus showing, white, strong teeth; but 
his smile was mournful and his face seemed somewhat 
confused. 

“I am ineffably happy,” he said, stopping before the 
coach and bowing politely, “that I find you and the es- 
teemed ladies enjoying good health, for the road is not yet 
altogether safe, of which I have convinced myself.” 

“Cover your head, or your ears will freeze,” said Pan 
Pongowski, bitterly. “We thank you for your solicitude. 
But what makes you roam about the forest?” 

Tachewski cast a penetrating glance at Panna Seninska, 
as though he wanted to ask, “Perhaps you know what 
makes me do it?” But, seeing that she lowered her eyes 
and that she was biting the ribbons of her hood, he an- 
swered, in a firmer voice : 

“Simply so. I felt like seeing how the moon shines in 
the forest.” 

“A fine desire. And your horse was killed by wolves?” 

“ They only finished killing him, for I almost killed him 
myself.” 

“I know. And you sat all night on a pine, like a fool.” 

At this point the Bukoyemskis burst into such deafening 
roars of laughter that the horses squatted down on their 
hind legs, and Tachewski turned around and began to 


36 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


measure them with his eyes ; in his eyes was a flash as cold 
as ice and sharp as a dagger. 

Then he said to Pongowski : 

“Not like a fool, but like a Polish noble deprived of his 
horse, at whom your lordship may laugh, but it may not be 
particularly well with anybody else that does it.” 

“Oho! Oho! Oho!” exclaimed the Bukoyemskis in a 
chorus, approaching him on their horses. Their faces grew 
dim for a minute and their mustaches began to move; but 
Tachewski again began to measure them with his eyes, toss- 
ing his head up as he did so. 

Then Pan Pongowski cried in a stern and commanding 
voice, as though he was the commander of them all : 

“Please — without any quarrels! This is Pan Tachew- 
ski,” he added, more softly, after a while, turning to the 
knights, “and these are Pan Ciprianowicz and Pan Bu- 
koyemskis, to whom, I may say, we owe our lives, for we 
were also attacked by wolves last night. Insperati, they 
came to our assistance, but just at the right moment.” 

“At the right moment!” repeated Panna Seninska, with 
emphasis, and cast a grateful look at Ciprianowicz. And 
Tachewski’s cheeks reddened, his eyes grew dim, and, with 
immeasurable sadness in Iris voice, he said : 

“At the right moment, because there were many of them, 
and they were lucky in having good horses ; and as for my 
Wallac-h, the wolves are by this time gnashing their teeth 
over him, and I have lost my last friend. But” — he glanced 
at the Bukoyemskis gratefully — “may your hands be blessed 
for doing that which I would have done from the depths of 
my soul; but God has not ordered it thus.” 

Panna Seninska was inconstant, like every woman, and 
perhaps she began to feel sorry for Pan Tachewski ; for her 
eyes softened and began to blink, and she asked, in an alto- 
gether different tone: 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


37 


“Old Wallach? 0 God;, how I loved him, and how well 
he knew me ! 0 God !” 

Tachewski looked at her with profound gratitude. 

“He knew you — he knew you ! ” 

“And you, Pan Yazko, don’t worry too much !” 

“I worried before, while on horseback, and now I will 
worry, traveling on foot. But may God reward you for 
your kind words.” 

“Meanwhile sit down on Mishasti,” said Pan Pongowski. 
“The servant will sit down beside the postilion, or he’ll 
find a place behind the coach. We have a spare fur coat — 
put it on, because you were freezing all night, and now a 
new frost is beginning to pinch.” 

“No,” replied Tachewski; “I purposely brought no fur 
coat along. I feel warm.” 

“Well, then, let’s start.” 

And after a while they started off. Yatzek Tachewski 
stationed himself at the left window of the coach, Stanis- 
lav Ciprianowicz at the other one, so that Panna Seninska, 
sitting on the front seat, could easily look at both of them 
without turning her head. 

But the Bukoyemskis were displeased with Tachewski’s 
presence, and they were angry because he took his place 
by the coach-window; therefore they came together in a 
crowd, so that their horses almost touched heads, and they 
began to talk the matter over among themselves. 

“He looked at us with contempt,” said Matvey. “As 
God is holy, he wanted to degrade us.” 

“And now he turned his horse’s back toward us. What 
will you say to this?” 

“Why, his horse could not face us, for a horse cannot 
go backward, like a crab. But that he is making love to the 
young lady — that is true,” remarked Marek. 


38 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“ That’s true. Look how he is cringing. If the girth 
would burst now he’d fly off the saddle.” 

“ He’ll not fly off, the devil take him, for he can ride well, 
and the belts of the girth are strong.” 

“Look, look ! He’s again smiling to her.” 

“Well, dear brethren, are we going to allow this?” 

“Never! Under no circumstances! She’s not for us — 
true ! But do you remember what we decided last night ?” 

“ Of course ! And he must have found out about it, the 
cunning brute, and now he’s courting her to spite us.” 

“He’s making sport of our orphanhood and poverty !” 

“Well, he’s not a great Pan — on some one else’s side- 
horse !” 

“But we are not on our own, either ” 

“But w'e still have one horse left, so that if three of us 
stay at home the fourth may go even to war; while this 
fellow hasn’t even a saddle of his own, because the wolves 
tore it to pieces with their teeth.” 

“And lie’s turning up his nose yet. What does he want 
of us, pray ?” 

“We must ask that of him.” 

“Right away. But diplomatically, so as not to offend 
the old man, Pongowski. And when he answers, we’ll chal- 
lenge him to fight a duel.” 

“Which one of us will do it?” 

“I, of course, because I am the oldest. I’ll just take off 
the icicles from my mustaches — and march !” 

“Look out ; remember well what he will tell you.” 

“Like God’s prayer — I’ll repeat it all.” 

Saying this, the oldest of the Bukoyemskis began to take 
off the icicles which had formed on his mustaches ; and then 
he rode up to Tachewski’s side-horse and said ; 

“Most honorable sir!” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


39 


“What is it you wish?” asked Tachewski, turning his 
head away from the coach-window unwillingly. 

“Have you anything against us ?” 

Tachewski regarded him for a minute in astonishment; 
then he replied : 

“Nothing.” 

And, shrugging his shoulder, he again turned his face to- 
ward the coach. Bukoyemski rode for some time in silence, 
thinking whether he should return to his brethren and give 
an account of the answer he received, or whether he should 
try again. The latter seemed to him to be the better course, 
and he said again : 

“If you think that you will succeed in something, then 
I will say to you the same you said to me : ‘Nothing.’ ” 

Tachewski began to feel unpleasant and bored. He un- 
derstood that Bukoyemski was picking a quarrel with him, 
and at this moment he did not feel like answering any 
quibbling whatever. Nevertheless, he decided that it was 
necessary to say something in reply, and that it should be 
something that would cut the conversation at once. 

And he asked : 

“Are those your brothers?” 

“Of course; whose then?” 

“Then you had better decide together; and nolv don’t 
interrupt this pleasant conversation we are holding.” 

Bukoyemski rode another ten or fifteen steps by his side, 
then turned his horse back. 

“What did he say to you? Tell us everything.” The 
brethren began to question him. 

The oldest brother repeated his conversation with Ta- 
chewski. They remained dissatisfied. 

“You didn’t hit him in the right spot,” said Lukash. 
“You should have hit his horse with the stirrup in the 
belly, or you should have said something insulting to him.” 


40 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“For instance, thus: ‘Now that the wolves nave de- 
voured your horse, you ought to buy a goat for yourself in 
Pshitik/ ” 

“There’s plenty of time for this. What did he mean by 
saying, ‘Are those your brethren ?’ ” 

“Perhaps he wanted to say, ‘Are they also such fools as 
you are ?’ ” 

“Of course! I swear to God that’s so!” exclaimed 
Marek. “There could have been nothing else in his mind ! 
Well, what are we to do now?” 

“His death or ours! We must tell Stanislav about it!” 

“It isn’t necessary, for if we give him the girl he must 
challenge Tachewski ; and we don’t want this — we must 
challenge him first.” 

“When?” 

“We can’t do it at Pongowski’s. And here is Bel- 
chonchki.” 

Indeed, Belchonchld was very near. At the border of 
the forest stood a cross with the image of the Saviour, be- 
tween two spears, erected by Pan Pongowski. On the right, 
where the road turned beyond the woods, were vast meadows 
with a strip of alder-trees stretching along the river ; on the 
other side the bare tops of tall trees and the smoke rising 
from peasants’ huts were visible. 

Soon the travelers found themselves amidst various 
structures, and when they went past the fences and farm- 
houses the house of Pan Pongowski arose before their eyes. 

The wide court-yard was surrounded by an old, dilapi- 
dated fence. No enemy came to these places from time 
immemorial, and therefore nobody took any care about for- 
tifying the settlement. In the yard stood two breeding- 
cages for pigeons. On one side was the wing of the houses 
on the other barns, warehouses and a cheese-dairy, made 
of thin logs and boards. In front of the house were little 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


at 

posts with iron rings for tying horses; on each of these 
posts was a cap of frozen snow. The house was queer, 
large, with a straw-covered roof. Hunting dogs swarmed 
about in the yard, and among them walked back and forth 
a tamed stork with a broken wing, who had evidently just 
come out of the house in order to take a walk and breathe 
the frosty air. 

The newcomers were expected in the house, for Pan Pon- 
gowski had sent a servant in advance to notify the house- 
hold that he was coming home. That same servant came 
out and, bowing, said: 

“The Pan Starost of Raigrod, Grotus, is here.” 

“My God!” exclaimed Pan Pongowski. “Has he been 
waiting long?” 

“It isn’t quite an hour yet. He wanted to go away, but 
I told him that we were expecting your lordship every 
minute.” 

“You have done well.” 

Then he turned to his guests : 

“I ask you humbly! Pan Grotus is a relative of mine. 
I suppose he has just returned from Warsaw from his 
brother, because he was chosen as a delegate to the political 
assembly. Come in, please! Come in!” 

A minute later and they were in the dining-room, before 
the Starost of Raigrod, whose head almost reached the 
ceiling, for he was even taller than the Bukoyemskis. Pan 
Grotus was a stately nobleman, with intelligent eyes, with 
the face and bald head of a statesman, and a forehead 
marked with a scar over his nose, between his eyebrows. 
This scar, resembling a wrinkle, gave his face a stern and 
something like an angry expression. However, he smiled 
graciously to Pan Pongowski and opened his arms to meet 
him. 


42 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“Yes, it is I, the guest, who welcome the host to his 
own house.” 

Pan Pongowski clasped his neck with his arm and re- 
plied : 

“ What a guest, what a dear guest ! May God grant you 
strength, because you came to see me ! What’s news there?” 

“De privatis good, and de publicis also good, because war 
is on.” 

“ How ? We ? Already ?” 

“We — not yet, but an alliance with His Highness the 
Emperor will be signed in March, and then war is im- 
minent.” 

Although rumors about a war against Turkey were on 
foot before Hew Year’s, and though there were people who 
spoke of it as being imminent, yet the confirmation of this 
rumor from the lips of a personage so important, and one 
standing in such close relations with State affairs as Pan 
Grotus, produced a profound impression on Pan Pongowski 
and his young guests. And no sooner had the host intro- 
duced them to the Starost than a conversation was started 
about the war, about Tekel and about the bloody conflicts 
in Hungary, whence the fire spread even to Ragusa and to 
Poland. It must be a terrible war, before which the King 
of Rome and all German lands were trembling. 

Pan Grotus, well acquainted with the political situation, 
said that Porta would move half of Asia and the whole of 
Africa to start out with such a force as the world had not 
seen heretofore. But these suppositions spoilt nobody’s hu- 
mor; on the contrary, the youths listened cheerfully, be- 
cause they had grown tired of the long rest at home, and 
war opened before them a field of glory, of service, and 
even of advantages. 

Pan Matvey Bukoyemski, on hearing the words of the 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


43 


Starost of Raigrod, struck himself a blow on the knee so 
that an echo resounded throughout the room, and said : 

“Half of Asia and what else there? How important! 
As though this is our first time !” 

“It's not the first time, you are quite right,” replied the 
host, whose stern face suddenly lit up with joy. “If these 
tidings are true, then corresponding orders will surely be 
announced and a call for troops will be issued. Would to 
God it were so! Would to God it were as soon as possible! 
Near Chotino lived a blind old man named Devientkiewicz. 
His sons set the spear for him for the attack, and he struck 
the J anizaries like everybody else. But I have no son.” 

“My dearest, if anybody has a right to stay home, it is 
you,” said the Starost. “It is bad to have no son for the 
war, it is still worse to have no eyes, but it is worst of all 
to have no arm.” 

“I learned to handle a sword with both hands,” replied 
Pan Gedeon, “and I can hold the reins in my teeth. I wish 
to fall — to fall in battle against the pagans — in the field — 
not out of personal revenge — no ! I’ll tell you why. I am 
speaking sincerely. I am old; I have seen a great deal, I 
have thought a great deal ; I have witnessed so much human 
malice, so many petty affairs, so much disorder in our Re- 
public, so much insubordination, so many broken Diets, so 
much lawlessness, that, I will tell you, I have more than 
once asked the Lord in despair, ‘Wherefore, 0 Lord, hast 
Thou created our Republic and our nation ?' And now, 
when the pagan sea is rising, when the hideous viper opens 
its jaws in order to devour the whole world and Christian- 
ity, when, as you say, the Csesar of Rome and all the Ger- 
man lands are shuddering before the thunder-cloud — only 
now I have understood wherefore God has created us and 
what obligations He has charged us with. The Turks them- 
selves are saying so. Let others tremble — we shall not 


44 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


tremble ! Let our purest blood flow on to the very last drop, 
and let also my blood join it. Amen !” 

Pan Pongowskfis eyes began to flash and he became in- 
tensely agitated; but he did not allow the tears to wet his 
cheeks, perhaps because he had already shed all his tears 
before, or maybe because he was stern to himself as well as 
he was to others. Nevertheless Pan Grotus embraced him, 
kissed him on both cheeks, and said : 

“ True, true ! There is a great deal of wickedness in our 
midst, and by our blood alone will we be able to atone for 
our wrongs before the Lord. It is the service, it is the 
guardianship, which God has entrusted to us — it is the 
predestination of our people. And the time is nearing 
when we shall produce the evidence of this service. Yes ! 
There is also intimation on the part of the pagans that they 
will descend on Vienna. Thither we shall go, and there 
we will prove to the whole world that we are but the soldiers 
of Christ, created but for the defense of our faith and the 
cross! All nations that have lived peacefully by our side 
will see clearly what guardians we are; and, with the help 
of God, our deserts and our glory will last as long as the 
world lasts.” 

At these words the youths were seized with enthusiasm. 
The Bukoyemskis jumped up from their places and cried : 

“God grant it! When will they call for troops? God 
grant it !” 

And Ciprianowicz said : 

“ Our soul is yearning for it ! We are ready even to-day.” 

Only Tachewski was silent, and his face did not brighten, 
and the news which had filled all hearts with joy was to 
him but a source of pain and sorrow. His thoughts and his 
eyes followed fixedly the young Seninska, who fluttered 
merrily around the feast-table, and seemed to say to her 
with reproach and immeasurable sorrow ; 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


45 

“If not for yon, I would have gone to some magnate’s 
castle, and, though I would not find riches there, I could 
get some armor and a horse, and I would enter some regi- 
ment in search of death or fame. It is your beauty, your 
glances, the kind words you occasionally gave me, that 
have caused me to stay here, on a few acres of land, 
and almost die of starvation. And on your account I 
have not seen the world, and I remained an unpolished 
fool. What wrong have I done that you have taken me 
captive both body and soul ? I preferred to die rather than 
not to see you for a whole year, and hastening to save you 
I lost my last horse ; and yet you laughed at me and looked 
affectionately at somebody else. And now — what will I 
do? The war will begin soon. Shall I become a servant, 
or shall I disgrace myself and become a foot-soldier ? What 
have I done that you have no pity for me at all?” 

Thus grieved Yatzek Tachewski, who felt his misery all 
the more acutely because he was a descendant of a renowned 
family of knights, although he was hopelessly poor. It 
was not true that Panna Seninska had no pity for him, but 
it was true that, thanks to her, he never saw the world and 
stayed as in a bear’s den, possessing two serfs, and often 
unable to satisfy the most essential necessaries of life. He 
was seventeen years old and she thirteen when he fell pas- 
sionately in love with her, and continued to love her thus 
for five years, growing fonder and fonder of her from year 
to year, but also growing ever sadder, for he had no hope. 
Pan Pongowski at first sheltered him willingly, as a de- 
scendant of a renowned family, to whom entire districts had 
belonged in days gone by ; but soon he reconsidered the mat- 
ter and became harsh toward him, and sometimes even 
cruel. True, he d*id not shut the doors of his house to him, 
but kept him at a distance from the girl, because he had 
special hopes and prospects on her account. And as for 


46 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


the girl herself, she tested all her powers on Tachewski and 
was amused by his love, just as girls are amused by flowers 
in the meadows. Sometimes one of them will bend down 
and pluck one flower and plait it in her braid, and then 
cast it away and forget it; and then she starts to look for 
new ones. Tachewski had never spoken to her of his love; 
but she was well aware of it, although she made believe 
that she did not know and that she did not care to know 
what was happening to him. She led him by the nose as 
she pleased. When one day bees attacked her she hid her- 
self under his cloak and pressed to his bosom; but later 
she could not forgive herself for this very thing for two 
days. Occasionally she treated him almost with contempt, 
and when it seemed to him that all was lost, she once more 
filled his heart with immeasurable joy and hope by a single 
affectionate glance, by a single word of kindness. If it 
happened that on account of some wedding, or birthday, 
or some great hunting party, he did not appear in Bel- 
chonchki, the young lady longed to see him; but when he 
came again she amused herself and caused him suffering. 
He experienced the most painful moments when guests 
came to Belchonchki, and particularly if among them was 
a polite and handsome young man. Then Yatzek Tachewski 
thought that the heart of the young girl held not the slight- 
est compassion for him. And now he thought thus on ac- 
count of Ciprianowicz, and all that Pan Grotus had said 
about the war poured still greater bitterness into his over- 
flowing cup of painful thoughts. 

Tachewski had learned to control himself in Pan Pon- 
gowski’s house ; nevertheless he could hardly sit through the 
supper while he was listening to the conversation between 
Panna Seninska and Stanislav Ciprianowicz. The poor 
young man noticed that she rather liked the new acquaint- 
ance, because he was brave, amiable and not at all foolish. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


47 

The conversation at the table turned to the future forma- 
tion of the army. Ciprianowicz, having learned from Pan 
Grotus that he might levy volunteers himself in these 
places, suddenly turned to Panna Seninska and asked : 

“Which regiment do you prefer?” 

She looked at his shoulders and said : 

“The regiment of the hussars.” 

“Because of the wings?” 

“Yes. I saw the hussars one day, and I thought it a 
heavenly army. I dreamed about them two nights after 
that.” 

“I don’t know whether you’ll dream of me if I become 
a hussar, but I am sure that I will dream of you — and also 
■with wings.” 

“Why so?” 

“Because it is natural with an angel.” 

Panna Seninska lowered her eyes so that the shade of 
her lashes fell on her pink cheeks, and after a brief pause 
she said : 

“Enter the regiment of the hussars.” 

Tachewski set his teeth together tightly and passed his 
hand over his perspiring forehead; but not a word, not a 
glance did he receive from her throughout the supper. And 
only when everybody arose from the table, and the chairs 
were moved into the room, Panna Seninska’s sweet voice 
rang out near his ear : 

“Are you also going to the war ?” 

“To fall ! to fall !” replied Pan Yatzek. 

In this answer rang such genuine grief that the voice of 
his beloved asked, as if with a shade of emotion: 

“Why should you cause vexation to people?” 

“No one will mourn for me.” 

“How do you know?” rang out the girlish voice for the 
third time. 


48 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


Then she quickly fluttered away to the other guests, like 
a wonderful vision of dreamland; and then she blossomed 
up, like a pink flower, in the other corner of the room. 

Meantime the older people sat down after supper to 
drink mead, and, having exhausted all they had to say on 
public affairs, they began to discuss private matters. Pan 
Grotus followed Panna Seninska with his eyes for some 
time, and said, with emotion : 

“ That’s what I call a candle! Just look at the youths 
rushing toward her like night-butterflies toward fire. And 
there’s nothing surprising about it; if it were not for our 
years we would also rush after her like this.” 

But Pan Pongowski waved his hand disdainfully. 

“Night-butterflies, gray butterflies, nothing more!” 

“How’s that? Tachewski, for instance, he’s not of the 
gray butterflies.” 

“But he is a pauper. Nor are the Bukoyemskis of the 
gray ones. They even claim relationship to Apostle Peter. 
That may be of use to them in the heavenly kingdom, but 
meanwhile all the four brothers serve in the royal forestry 
like ordinary foresters.” 

Pan Grotus wondered at the ties of the Bukoyemski fam- 
ily no less than Pan Pongowski had wondered, and he began 
to inquire for particulars about them; but in the end he 
burst into laughter, and said : 

“ St. Peter is a great apostle, and I do not want to belittle 
his qualities, especially that, feeling the approach of old 
age, I shall soon have recourse to his kindness ; but, between 
me and you, one cannot boast of such a relative. He was 
a plain fisherman, nothing more. St. Joseph, who was a 
descendant of King David — well, that’s a different matter.” 

“I say that there is not one suitable for the girl — and 
not only of those you see now under my roof, but even in 
the entire district.” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


49 

“And the one that sits just now near Pani Vinicka? 
He certainly looks like a knight.” 

“ Ciprianowicz ? Yes, he’s a decent fellow, hut he is of 
Armenian descent, and his nobility counts but three or four 
generations back.” 

“Why, then, do you invite them? Cupid is a deceiver, 
and before you’ll have time to look around he’ll make a 
terrible mess for you.” 

Pan Pongowski had explained, while introducing the 
guests to Pan Grotus, how indebted he was to them; and 
now he once more told him all the details of how the wolves 
had attacked them, and how help came to them ; wherefore, 
out of gratitude, he had to invite his saviors to his house. 

“True, true,” assented Pan Grotus; “but Cupid in his 
turn can play a terrible trick, for the girl’s blood is not 
water.” 

“Oh, she’s a cunning marten,” replied Pan Pongowski. 
“ She may bite somebody, but she’ll manage to escape, and 
not everybody will succeed in catching her. Such is the 
inherent quality of noble blood that it must not yield — it 
must manage and command. I myself do not belong to 
those that are easily led by the nose, and' yet sometimes I 
am forced to let her have her way. True, I am greatly 
indebted to the Seninskas; but, even leaving this aside, 
when she stands before me, and throws her braid from one 
hand to the other, and bends her head and looks at me, 
then in most cases I will do whatever she pleases. And 
sometimes I think what an honor and what a heavenly 
blessing it is that the last offspring, the last representative 
of such a family is under my roof. You know, of course, 
about the Seninskas. All Podolia was theirs. Truth to 
tell, the Danislowiczs and the Zhulkewskis and the Sobi- 
eskis — they all grew up from them. His Highness the King 
must bear this in mind, all the more so because nothing 


50 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


was left of all their immense estates; and if the girl will 
have something, it will be only that which will be left 
after me.” 

“And what will your relatives say?” 

“The Pongowskis are very distant relatives, and they’ll 
hardly be able to produce the necessary documents. Never- 
theless, I am sometimes disturbed by the thought that after 
my death there may arise certain difficulties, trials, quar- 
rels — as is usually the case with us. I feel most uneasy 
about the relatives of my wife, from whom I received a 
share of the inheritance, and, among other things, this 
Belchonchki.” 

“I shall not come out into this lawsuit,” answered 
Grotus, with a smile, “but I am not responsible for the 
others.” 

“That’s just it. I was preparing to go to Warsaw and 
ask the King himself to take the orphan under his protec- 
tion, but his mind is now occupied with something alto- 
gether different.” 

“ If you had a son the matter would be quite simple : to 
have him marry the girl.” 

Pan Pongowski cast such a look of suffering at the Star- 
ost of Raigrod that the latter stopped in the middle of the 
sentence. They were silent for a long time; then Pan 
Gedeon said, in a voice shaking with emotion : 

“My dearest, I could say, together with Virgil: ‘ Infan - 
dum jubes renovare dolorem. Yes, the matter would be 
simple; and I’ll tell you that were it not for this ‘simple 
matter’ I would probably be dead long ago. My son was 
captured by Ordinians while he was yet a child. It often 
happened that people returned from the pagan captivity 
when all had long forgotten them. For years I was ex- 
pecting the miracle to happen — for years I have lived by 
this hope. And even when I drink a little I think, ‘Per- 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


51 


haps P God is greater than human expectations. But the 
moments of hope are brief, and the pain is acute and in- 
cessant. No! Why deceive myself? My blood will not 
blend with the blood of the Seninskas, and if my relatives 
should take away my property after I am gone, then the 
last offspring of the family to whom I owe everything will 
remain in the world without a crust of bread.” 

They again began to drink in silence. Pan Grotus was 
wondering how to soften the pain which he had caused to 
Pongowski unintentionally and how to console him in his 
grief. Finally something which seemed to him a happy 
thought came into his mind. 

“Eh,” said he, “there are remedies for everything, and 
you, my dearest, can make sure of the crust of bread for the 
girl without any obstacles.” 

“In which way?” asked Pan Pongowski, with some un- 
easiness. 

“Has it never happened that old people married even 
minors? Exemplum from history: The great Hetman 
Konecpolski, who was older than you, married a very young 
girl. It is also true that he died during the first night after 
the wedding. But Pan Makowski, your royal cup-bearer 
of Eadom, and Pan Kudnecki, did not die, though they 
were seventy years old. And you are a strong man. If 
God will bless you with posterity, so much the better; if 
not, then you will leave the young widow well provided, and 
she will then marry the man that she will choose for her- 
self.” 

It is hard to tell whether such thoughts had ever before 
entered Pongowski’s head ; but, having listened to the words 
of the Starost of Eaigrod, he became intensely confused, 
and, pouring out the mead for his guests, his hand trem- 
bled and the noble beverage was spilled on the floor. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


'm 

“ Let’s drink !” he said. “Here's to the success of the 
Christian arms!” 

“That’s a different thing !” replied Pan Grotus, following 
the course of his own thoughts; “and you had better con- 
sider what I told you, because it seems to me I have hit 
upon the right thing.” 

“Well, what’s the use of talking? Let’s drink another.” 

Their conversation was interrupted by the moving of 
arm-chairs near the large table. Pani Vinicka and Panna 
Seninska were intending to go to bed. The ringing voice 
of the young girl, resounding like a silver bell, began, to 
repeat, “Good-night, good-night” ; then she made a curtsey 
before Pan Grotus, kissed Pan Pongowski on the hand, 
rubbed her little nose and forehead against his shoulder 
like a kitten and departed. Ciprianowicz, the Bukoyemskis 
and Tachewski went out after the ladies. Only the two old 
men remained in the room, and they were talking for a 
long time, for Pan Pongowski ordered a servant to bring 
out another bottle of the best mead. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


53 


CHAPTER II. 

Whether it was a coincidence, or whether it was a trick 
on the part of the young lady, no one knew; but, however 
it was, the four Bukoyemskis were given a large room in 
the wing of the house, and another, a smaller room, was 
given to Ciprianowicz and Tachewski. This agitated them, 
and, not knowing what to begin to say to one another, they 
immediately began to read their prayers, and they read 
them longer than usual. But the prayers were ended and 
an awkward silence ensued. This was painful to both, for 
although they had no friendly feelings toward each other, 
they nevertheless realized that they must not betray them- 
selves, and that at least during their stay in Pan Pongow- 
skf s house they must stick to diplomacy. 

Tachewski unfastened his sword, unsheathed it, examined 
its edge by the fireplace, and began to wipe it with a hand- 
kerchief. 

“ After the frost,” he said, half to himself, half to Cipri- 
anowicz, “it will turn rusty in a warm room at once.” 

“It must have frozen well last night,” replied Cipriano- 
wicz. 

He said it without any thought of malice, merely because 
he had recalled that Tachewski had spent the night before 
in the terrible cold; but Pan Yatzek immediately leaned 
the point of his sword against the floor and stared pene- 
tratingly into his eyes. 

“Are you referring to the fact that I passed the night 
on the pine-tree?” 


54 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“Yes,” replied Stanislav, good-naturedly; “there you had 
no fireplace.” 

“And what would you have done in my place: ” 

Ciprianowicz was about to say, “The same,” but, as the 
question was asked in a harsh tone, he said : 

“Why should I break my head about this since I was 
not there?” 

Wrath flashed over Pan Yatzek's face, and to control him- 
self he began to blow his breath upon the sword, to wipe 
it more energetically, and finally sheathed it again and 
said: 

“God sends adventures and misfortunes!” 

And his eyes, which had a moment ago flashed with 
anger, once more assumed their usual sad expression. He 
recalled his only friend, the horse, which had been torn by 
the wolves. 

By this time the door was opened and the four Bukoyem- 
skis entered the room. 

“The frost is milder and it is getting foggy,” said Mat- 
vey. 

“Yes, it is getting foggy,” repeated Yan. 

And only now they noticed Tachewski, whom they had 
not noticed as they entered. 

“Oh!” exclaimed Lukash, turning to Ciprianowicz. “So 
that's the company you are in ?” 

All the four brothers put their arms akimbo and stared 
at Tachewski defiantly. 

And Pan Tachewski seized an arm-chair, placed it in the 
middle of the room, turned quickly toward the Bukoyem- 
skis, then seated himself on the chair astride, leaned his 
arms on the arms of the chair, lifted his head and cast at 
them, too, a look of defiance. 

Thus they looked at one another — Yr.tzek, with his feet 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 55 

in Swedish boots, wide apart; the Bukoyemskis, shoulder 
to shoulder, tall, terrible, quarrelsome. 

Ciprianowicz saw that a fight was near, and yet he felt 
like laughing. Figuring that he could at any moment stop 
this quarrel, he allowed the enemies to exchange glances. 

“What a self-reliant fellow!” said he to himself, think- 
ing of Tachewski. “He looks as though he doesn’t feel con- 
fused at all !” 

And the silence was protracted, both unbearable and 
ridiculous at the same time. Pan Yatzek understood this, 
because he was the first to break it. 

“Be seated, my dear fellows,” he said; “not only do I 
allow you to do it, but I even ask you to do it.” 

The Bukoyemskifc exchanged glances, amazed and con- 
fused by such an unexpected turn of affairs. 

“How'? What is it? What does he think of himself?” 

“1 ask you to sit down !” repeated Tachewski, pointing at 
the bench. 

“We are standing because we like to stand. Do you 
understand ?” 

“What superfluous formality!” 

“What formality?” cried Lukash. “What are you play- 
ing, the bishop or the senator, you Pompeii ?” 

Tachewski did not stir from his place, only his shoulders 
twitched, as though from a wave of laughter which sud- 
denly rushed upon him. 

“Why do you call me Pompeii?” he asked. 

“Because you deserve it.” 

“Perhaps it is because you are a fool?” 

“Strike, whoever believes in God!” shouted Yan. 

But Pan Yatzek seemed to have grown tired of this con- 
versation, for he jumped over to the Bukoyemskis. 

“Listen, you turbulent fellows,” he said, in a voice as 
cold as steel, “what is it you wish from me?” 


56 


THE FIELD OF GLORY, 


“ Blood !” cried Matvey Bukoyemski. 

“ You’ll not slip away from our hands!” yelled Marek. 

“Como forward right away!” added Lukash, seizing his 
sword. 

But Ciprianowicz immediately took them apart. 

‘Til not permit it!” he cried in his turn. “This is not 
our house. We are guests here.” 

“True,” affirmed Tachewski; “this is not our house, and 
I will not cause any disagreeableness to Pan Pongowski. 
I'll not slash you to pieces under his roof, but therefore 
111 look for you to-morrow.” 

“Well find you to-morrow!” thundered Matvey. 

“You’ve been picking a quarrel, you’ve interfered with 
me all day long — why? I do not know — for I don’t know 
you, nor do you know me. But you shall pay me for this." 
I’ll stand up not only against four, but even against ten, 
for offending me.” 

“Come, come, even one will do. It seems that you have 
not heard about the Bukoyemskis !” said Yan. 

But Tachewski turned around to Ciprianowicz. 

“I spoke of four,” he said; “but perhaps you will also 
join these knights?” 

Ciprianowicz bowed politely. 

“Since you ask about it ” 

“But w r e are first, and older than you. We’ll not with- 
draw from this. We have promised her to you, and we’ll 
kill any one who will stand in your way.” 

Tachewski cast a quick glance at the Bukoyemskis ; in a 
minute all became clear to him, and he turned pale. 

“So, that’s the case, sir knight?” he said, addressing 
Ciprianowicz. “So, you keep hirelings and you hide your- 
self behind their swords? What’s the use of discussing 
this? Of course, this is a surer and less dangerous way. 


, THE FIELD OF GLORY. 5^ 

but whether it is the way of a noble or a knight is another 
question. Fie, what society I have fallen into !” 

Though Ciprianowicz was by nature soft-hearted, on 
hearing this shameful accusation he nevertheless flew into 
a passion, the veins stood out on his forehead, his eyes began 
to flash lightnings. He desperately gnashed his teeth and 
clasped the handle of his sword. 

“ Come forward, come forward this minute !” he cried, 
in a tone suffocating from anger. 

The swords flashed and it became light in the room from 
the steel, on which fell the reflection of the smoldering 
wood in the fireplace. But three of the Bukoyemskis, rush- 
ing between the opponents, stood as a wall between them, 
while the fourth seized Ciprianowicz by the arms and began 
to shout : 

“Stanislav, for God’s sake, restrain yourself ! We come 
first !” 

“We come first,” repeated his brethren. 

“Leave me alone !” cried Ciprianowicz, hoarsely. 

“We come first !” 

“Leave me alone!” 

“Hold Stanislav, and I’ll get through with him in the 
meantime,” suggested Matvey. 

And grasping Tachewski by the hand, he began to draw 
him aside, in order to fight a duel at once. But Pan 
Yatzek’s anger had already subsided; he freed his hand, 
replaced his sword into its sheath, and said : 

“It is for me to choose who is to fight first, and where. 
Therefore I say to you : To-morrow, and not here, but in 
Virombki.” 

“No; you’ll not slip away from us ! Now, right away!” 
But Tachewski crossed his arms on his breast. 

“Ah! You want to kill me under a strange roof, with- 
out a duel? Very well.” 


58 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


The brethren were seized with rage. They began to 
strike the floor with their heels, to pull their mustaches 
and to snuffle like bears. 

But none of them dared to attack Tachewski, without 
bringing upon himself disgrace. 

Tachewski stood a few minutes, as though expecting that 
they might jump on him; then he grasped his cap, put it 
on his head and said : 

"Well, I am telling you now: To-morrow! You’ll tell 
Pan Pongowski that you want to visit me, but find out 
how to get to Virombki. Beyond the stream there is a 
crucifix which was erected in the time of the plague. There 
I will wait for you at noon. May the devil take you !” 

He uttered the last words as if with compassion; then 
he opened the door and went out. 

In the yard he was surrounded by the dogs, which knew 
him well, and which began to wheedle about him. Involun- 
tarily, Tachewski glanced at the posts under the windows, 
as though looking for his horse ; but then, recalling that it 
wasn’t there any more, he heaved a sigh, and, feeling the 
cold wind, he said to himself : 

“Even the wind blows straight into a poor man’s eyes. 
I’ll go afoot.” 

And at this time the young Ciprianowicz wrung his 
hands for pain and anger, and he said to the Bukoyemskis, 
with terrible bitterness : 

“Who has asked you about this? The bitterest enemy 
would not have disgraced me more than you with your 
kind service!” 

The Bukoyemskis felt very sorry for him and began to 
embrace him in turn. 

“Stashko!” said Matvey, “they’ve sent us a bottle from 
the house. For God’s sake, don’t worry !” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


59 


CHAPTER III. 

It was gray outside yet when the priest Voinowski, with 
a lantern in his hand, was wending his way through the 
high snowbanks to his hares, to his pigeons and partridges, 
which he kept in a separate portion of his bam. A tamed 
fox, with a bell on her neck, followed him, and beside her 
walked a bright pug dog and a hedgehog, which in the 
priest’s warm room resisted its customary winter sleep. 
All the four, slowly passing through the yard, found them- 
selves before the straw roof of the bam, from which long 
icicles were hanging down. The lantern began to shake, 
the key creaked in the lock, the latch snapped, and the 
old man, together with his companions, entered the barn. 
After a minute had passed he seated himself on a stump, 
placed the lantern on another stump, and putting down be- 
fore him a cloth bag tilled with grain and with cabbage- 
leaves, which emitted a strong smell of the cellar, he began 
to throw it out on the floor, yawning loudly as he did so. 

But before he had begun his work three hares already 
appeared from the dark corners of the barn, and then, by 
the light of the lantern, like sparkling glass beads, flashed 
the eyes of the pigeons and the partridges, which drew 
near to the old man, shaking their little heads on their 
thin necks. The pigeons, being the bolder, immediately 
began to pick the grain, while the partridges advanced cau- 
tiously, glancing now at the feed, now at the priest, now 
at the fox, with which, however, they had long been ac- 


60 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


quainted. They had seen her every day, ever since they 
had been caught in the summer, while they were but little 
birds. 

And the priest kept throwing the feed out of his bag, and 
at the same time mumbling, “Our Father ■” 

“ Pater noster, qui es in coelis , sanctificetur nomen ” 

Here he stopped and turned to the fox, which was rub- 
bing against his side and trembling as if seized with fever. 

“You are always quivering as soon as you see them. And 
every day the same. Learn to suppress your inborn sinful 
passions, because you are getting fine provisions and you 
experience no hunger. Where have I stopped ?” 

He closed his eyes, as though awaiting some answer ; and 
as he heard none, he started anew : 

“Pater noster, qui es in coelis , sanctificetur nomen Tuum, 
adveniat regnum Tuum ” 

But here came a new pause. 

“You’re wheedling, wheedling,” he said, lowering his 
hand on the fox’s back. “Such is your nasty nature that 
you’re not satisfied with eating alone, but you must also 
kill somebody. Filus, little dog, get a hold of his tail, and 
if he plays a trick on you, then bite him. — Adveniat reg- 
num Tuum. — Oh, I know; you would also answer me that 
a man also libenter perdices monducat; but you must know 
that man at least during Lent subdues his desires, and in 
you evidently sits the soul of the godless Luther, because 
you are ready to eat meat even on Good Friday. — Fiat 
voluntas Tua. — Little hare, little hare, little hare — sicut 
in coelo . — Here’s a leaf for each of you.” 

With these words the priest threw out the cabbage-leaves, 
and then the grain, and muttered even at the pigeons; 
though spring was still far off, they were moving about 
near one another, cooing. At last, when his bag was empty, 
the priest arose, lifted the lantern and was about to go, 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


61 

■when suddenly Tachewski appeared at the threshold of the 
barn. 

“ Ah, Yazus !” exclaimed the priest, “what are yon doing 
here so early ?” 

Tachewski kissed him on the shoulder and answered : 

“I have come to confession, Holy Father, and I should 
like to take the holy communion at the early mass.” 

“To confession? Very well; but what is it that has 
made you to be in such haste ? Tell me at once ; there must 
be something wrong here.” 

“I will tell you the whole truth. I am to fight a duel 
to-day, and as it is easier to come upon some disagreeable- 
ness when fighting with five knights than with one, I should 
like to clear my soul.” 

“With five knights? God! What have you done to 
them?” 

“That’s just the point — I’ve done nothing. They them- 
selves have picked a quarrel with me and have challenged 
me.” 

“Who are they? 

“The Bukoyemskis, foresters, and Ciprianowicz from 
Edlinka.” 

“I know them ! Come into the house, and you’ll tell me 
how it all came about.” 

And they went. But in the middle of the yard the priest 
Voinowski suddenly stopped, looked fixedly into Tachew- 
ski’s eyes and asked: 

“Listen, Yatzek, mulier is in the case?” 

Tachewski smiled sadly. 

“Yes and no; it all began on her account, but she herself 
is innocent in the matter.” 

“Aha ! Innocent ! They are all innocent ! And do you 
know what Ecclesiastes says about women ?” 

“I don’t remember exactly, Holy Father.” 


62 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“Nor do I remember; but whatever I don’t remember I 
will read to you when we get home. ‘ Juveni * he says, 
‘ amariorem morte mulierem, quae laqueus venatorum est 
ei sagena cor ejusS And something else like it ; but in the 
end : c qui placet Deo , effugiet illam, qui autem peccator 
est, capietur ab ilia / I have cautioned you not once, but 
more than ten times, not to stay in that house, and now 
you have this affair !” 

“Oh, it is easier to caution than not to go there,” said 
Tachewski, with a sigh. 

“You’ll not find anything good there.” 

“That’s true,” the young knight assented, softly. 

They walked in silence. The priest’s face was sad, be- 
cause he loved TuJiewski with all his soul. When, after 
the death of his father, who died from the plague, the boy 
remained alone in the world, without any near relatives, 
without any means, with but a few peasants in Virombki, 
the old man took him under his guardianship. He could 
give him no riches, because, possessing an angelic soul, he 
distributed to the poor all his poor income ; but nevertheless 
he helped him somewhat, looked after him, taught him not 
only the various branches of science, but also knightly 
skill. Some time ago he had been a brave soldier, one of 
the friends and companions in arms of the renowned 
Yolodiowski, served under Chametzki, went through the 
entire Swedish campaign, and only after it was over, after 
a certain terrible circumstance, he became a priest. He 
loved Tachewski, and appreciated in him not only the de- 
scendant of a renowned family of knights, but also his 
noble soul, which was just as sad as his own. The priest 
was grieved painfully at Tachewski’s dire poverty, and at 
his unfortunate love affair, because of which the young 
man, instead of seeking glory and bread in God’s world, 
wasted his powers in this dull, lonely place, led a half- 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


f>3 


peasant mode of life. Therefore the priest felt a certain 
antipathy for the entire household at Belchonchki, and 
this antipathy was intensified because Pan Pongowski was 
very stem toward his peasants. 

The priest loved these “earth worms” very much — he 
loved them like the pupil of his eye; but, aside from this, 
he loved all that lives in the world — he loved those animals 

ft* 

at which he grumbled, and the birds, and the fishes, even 
the frog family which croaks in the summer in the waters 
heated by the sun. 

And yet it was not only an angel that walked in the 
priestly robe — it was also the former soldier; and when 
he learned that Tachewski was to fight a duel with five 
knights, he thought only of how the young man would 
distinguish himself and whether he would come out of this 
adventure unharmed. 

He stopped again at the very door of the house and said : 

“But I hope you’ll not let them get the best of you. I 
have not concealed from you that which I know and which 
Yolodiowski has taught me, have I ?” 

“I would not like to be cut into pieces,” replied Ta- 
chewski, modestly, “because a great war with Turkey is to 
begin soon.” 

The eyes of the old man began to flash like stars. He 
seized Tachewski by the lapel of his coat and began to 
question him. 

“Blessed be the name of the Lord ! How do you know ? 
Who told you?” 

“Pan Grotus, the Starost,” replied the young man. 

The conversation between Yatzek and the priest lasted 
for a long time.. Tachewski was confessing his sins for 
some time before mass, and when, after mass, they both 
found themselves in the priest’s house and began to drink 
beer, the old man could not free himself from the thought 


64 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


of the war against the pagans, and on this account began 
to complain of the deterioration of character and the de- 
cline of piety in the republic. 

“My God !” he said. “Look, the field of glory and salva- 
tion is open, and you prefer to fight on account of your 
petty private affairs and cut each other to pieces! Hav- 
ing the opportunity to shed your blood in the defense of 
the cross and religion, you are ready to shed your brother’s 
blood. And for whom? For what? On account of an 
insult, on account of a woman, or on account of some 
insignificant earthly matter. I know that in the republic 
it is an old, bad custom, and — mea culpa — I myself 
yielded to it in the days of my sinful and senseless youth. 
In the winter quarters, where the army is doing nothing 
except drinking in excess, hardly a day passes without a 
duel, notwithstanding that the church condemns it and 
the law prosecutes it. At any rate it is a sin, and before 
the Turkish it is a still graver sin, because there each and 
every sword will be necessary, and each and every sword 
will serve the true religion and the true God. That is why 
our King — defensor fidei — hates duels, and before the en- 
emy, on the battlefield, where martial law is declared, he 
punishes severely for it.” 

“During his youth the King himself fought more than 
one or two duels,” replied Tachewski. “Besides, what am 
I to do? I have not challenged them — they have chal- 
lenged me. Is there any other way out of it ?” 

“True, you cannot decline! And that is just why my 
soul revolts within me. But God is on the side of the 
guiltless.” 

Tachewski began to bid him farewell, because there was 
less than two hours till noon, and the road he was to travel 
was long. 

“Wait a while,” said the priest Yoinowski. “I’ll not 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


65 

leave you off like this. I will order the workman to cover 
the sleigh with straw and go to the place of the duel. If 
they don’t know anything about your quarrel at Pongow- 
ski’s they will not send any help ; and how will it be in case 
one of them, or you, should receive a serious wound ? Have 
you thought about this?” 

“I have not — and in all probability they have not thought 
of it, either.” 

“Well, there, you see! I will also go, but I shall not 
he present at the duel — I’ll stop in your place in Virombki. 
I’ll take the holy sacrament along with me, and a boy with 
a bell — who knows what may happen? It is unbecoming 
for a clergyman to be a witness of such affairs, but were 
it not for this I should have gone there willingly, if but to 
give you courage.” 

Tachewski looked at him with his girlishly mild eyes. 

“May God reward you,” he said. “But I am not losing 
courage, for even if it were necessary to lay down my head, 
I would ” 

“You had better keep silence,” the priest interrupted 
him. “Would you not have felt sorry for not going against 
the Turk and for not dying a more noble death ?” 

“True, Holy Father, and I will take care that the canni- 
bals do not devour me at once.” 

The priest thought for about a minute, and then said : 

“But if I should go over there and tell them what a re- 
ward may await them in heaven if they should die at the 
hands of the pagans, perhaps they would leave you in 
peace.” 

“For God’s sake, no!” exclaimed Yatzek, quickly. 
“They would have thought that I urged you on to it. I had 
better go right away than to listen to such words as these !” 

“Well, it is useless to talk ! Come,” said the priest. 

He hailed the workman, gave him an order to get the 


66 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


sleigh ready at once, and then both he and T'achewski 
walked out of the house. 

But, on noticing the horse on which Pan Yatzek had 
come, the priest stepped back in astonishment, and ex- 
claimed : 

“In the name of the Father and the Son, where did you 
take this battered jade?” 

Indeed, by the fence stood a little horse, somewhat bigger 
than a fair-sized goat, with drooping head and ragged 
mane. 

“I borrowed it from a peasant,” replied Tachewski. 
“There you are — now go to the Turkish war !” 

And he burst into painful, forced laughter. 

But the priest said in reply to this : 

“It makes no difference on what sort of a horse you will 
start out, but may God decree that you return on a Turkish 
horse. And meanwhile take off the saddle and saddle my 
horse, because you cannot appear before those nobles on this 
horse.” 

They arranged everything and started out — the priest, a 
boy serving in the church with a bell, the driver in the 
sleigh, and Tachewski on horseback. It was a gloomy and 
foggy day — it was beginning to thaw. The snow still lay 
on the frozen ground, but it melted considerably on the 
top, so that the horses’ hoofs sank into it noiselessly, and 
the sleigh moved along quietly over the even road. Not 
far from Yedlina they met a few carts with wood. The 
peasants walked beside their sleds, and they knelt at the 
sound of the bell, thinking that the priest was on the way 
to a dying person with his holy sacraments. Then they 
rode through fields, bare, white fields, wrapped in mist, and 
over them flocks of crows were flying. As they were near- 
ing the forest the mist grew heavier and heavier, so that, 
though the croaking of the birds was audible, the birds 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


67 


could no longer be discerned. The snowbanks on both 
sides of the road seemed like some phantoms. The world 
lost its usual outlines and was transformed into some magic 
land, delusive, with vague, indefinite surroundings and 
with a perfectly unknown distance. 

Tachewski rode on the priest’s horse, and thought of the 
duel, and still more of Panna Seninska; and thus his soul 
spoke, half to her, half to himself: “My love for you will 
remain always the same, but my heart has no joy whatever 
from it. Eh ! Truth to tell, I have felt but little joy be- 
fore. And now, if I could at least embrace your little feet, 
if I could at least hear one kind word from you, or if I only 
knew that you would feel sorry for me in case a misfortune 
should befall me ! But all this is like the fog about me. 
And you yourself are like this mist, and I do not know 
what is going on with me now, nor do I know what is await- 
ing me — I know nothing.” 

And Yatzek felt that a terrible sorrow was settling down 
on his soul, even as the dampness on his clothes. He drew 
a deep breath and said : 

“But I am glad of this: at least everything will end at 
once !” 

The priest Yoinowski was also absorbed in sad thoughts. 

“The fellow has suffered,” he said to himself. “There 
was nothing in his youth worth mentioning; there was a 
great deal of sorrow from this unfortunate love, and now 
what? Perhaps these bullies, the Bukoyemskis, will kill 
him. Not long ago they wounded Pan Kobizhski after mass 
in Kozeniz. And even if they do not kill Tachewski, noth- 
ing good will result from this. My God ! he’s a man like 
the purest gold, the last offspring of a renowned family of 
knights, the last drop of noble blood. If he would only 
now at least be upon his guard ! I only hope to God that 
he will not forget those two strokes: the spurious stroke, 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


68 

with the hound aside, and the circular stroke across the 
cheek. Yatzko!” 

But Yatzek did not hear him, for he had gone quite a 
distance away, and the old man did not repeat his call. On 
the contrary, he was seized with contrition at the thought 
that a clergyman traveling with the holy sacraments should 
occupy himself with such matters. He began to repent and 
pray God for forgiveness. 

But he felt more and more depressed. Suddenly he was 
seized with a foreboding which turned almost into a cer- 
tainty that this duel, without witnesses, would end for 
Yatzek in the worst manner. 

By this time they reached the crossroads, on the right 
of which was Virombki and on the left Belchonchki. The 
driver, who had received his orders in advance, stopped. 
Tachewski came near the sleigh and dismounted from the 
horse. 

“HI go to the cross afoot,” he said, “ because before the 
sleigh takes you away and comes back I would not know 
what to do with the horse. It may be that they are there 
already.” 

“It isn’t noon yet, but it is near it,’ ; said the priest, in 
a slightly changed tone. “What a fog! You’ll have to 
feel your way as you fight.” 

“Eh ! It’s light enough !” 

The croaking of the invisible crows or the ravens again 
resounded over their heads. 

“Yazko!” said the priest. 

“Yes.” 

“Since the matter must go as far as this, then remember 
the knights of Tachew.” 

“They’ll not be ashamed of me, Holy Father!” 

And, indeed, the old man noticed that the young man’s 
face looked as if turned into stone, and his eyes, though 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


69 


they lost none of their melancholy expression, no longer 
had that girlish tenderness which was in them a while be- 
fore. And the priest said : 

“ That’s good; but kneel down — I will make over you the 
sign of the cross, and you should make the sign of the cross 
before you start fighting.” 

Saying this, he made the sign of the cross on the head 
of Tachewski, who knelt before him on the snow.' 

Then Tachewski tied the horse behind the sleigh, kissed 
the priest’s hand and went toward Belchonchki. 

“Come back safe and sound !” cried the priest after him. 

No one was near the cross, as yet. Tachewski went around 
it several times, then seated himself on the rock at the foot 
of the cross and waited. 

Perfect silence reigned around him; only large drops, 
resembling tear-drops, fell from the cross to the soft snow 
with a light noise. This silence, full of a certain sadness, 
and this misty emptiness filled Tachewski’s soul with a new 
wave of melancholy. He felt himself so lonely, as never 
before. 

“True, I am like unto a dry branch of wood in the 
world,” he thought, “and such will be my fate until my 
very grave J” 

And he waved his hand. 

“Well, let it all end at once!” 

And he was seized with still more pain at the thought 
that his opponents were not in any hurry, because they felt 
cheerful, because they were at this time in Belchonchki, 
talking of “her,” and because they could look at her as 
much as they pleased. 

But he was mistaken, for they were in a hurry. A min- 
ute later he heard the echo of loud talking, and in the pale 
mist he $aon discerned the four huge figures of the Bu- 


70 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


koyemskis, and the fifth — smaller than the others — that of 
Ciprianowiez. 

They spoke so loud because they were disputing as to who 
should be the first to fight Tachewski. The Bukoyemskis, 
however, were always ready to dispute with one another; 
but this time the dispute was between them and Cipriano- 
wicz, who argued that, as he had been insulted most of all, 
the right to fight Tachewski first belonged to him. They fell 
silent only at the sight of the cross and of Tachewski stand- 
ing near it, and they raised their caps, greeting their op- 
ponent. 

Tachewski bowed to them in silence and unsheathed his 
sword; but his heart began to beat uneasily in his breast, 
for they were five against him, and, besides, the Bukoyem- 
skis looked so terrible: they were strong, broad-shouldered 
fellows, with mustaches like brooms, with wrinkled brows, 
while their faces bespoke a certain gloomy, beastly joy, as 
though they were enjoying the probability of shedding 
human blood. 

“What for will I lose my innocent head ?” thought Ta- 
chewski. 

But after this minute of alarm he was seized with indig- 
nation at these drunkards, whom he did not know at all, 
whom he had never offended in any way, and who, only God 
knows why, picked a quarrel with him, and now came to 
take his life away from him. 

And he thus turned to them and said from the depth of 
his soul : 

“Wait, you turbulent fellows. You have brought your 
heads here 

His cheeks flushed and his teeth were set firmly for rage. 
The Bukoyemskis were by this time throwing off their top- 
coats and rolling up their sleeves, and all did it at the same 
time— and they did it because each expected to be the first 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


U 


to fight. At last they all stationed themselves in a row 
with their swords bared, and Tachewski, advancing a step 
forward, paused and look at them in silence. 

Ciprianowicz was the first to break this silence. 

“ I am at your service first.” 

“No ! I am first, I am first !” cried all the Bukoyemskis 
at once. 

And when Ciprianowicz came forward, the brothers seized 
him by the elbows. Again a quarrel ensued, in which Cipri- 
anowicz called them “Cossack robbers” and they called 
him “idler”; and then they abused one another. This 
quarrel exasperated Tachewski in the extreme; and he 
said: 

“I have never yet seen such knights in all my life.” 

And he put his sword into his sheath. 

“Select some one from among you, or I’ll leave !” he said, 
firmly, raising his voice. 

“Make the selection yourself!” exclaimed Ciprianowicz, 
in the hope that the choice would fall upon him. 

Matvey Bukoyemski began to shout that he would not 
permit a youngster to manage them, and as he shouted, his 
teeth, bulging out like those of a hare, fairly sparkled from 
under his mustache. But he, too, fell silent when Ta- 
chewski, again unsheathing his sword, pointed at him and 
said : 

“I choose you.” 

The other brethren, together with Ciprianowicz, imme- 
diately retreated, seeing that there was no other way out 
of this ; only their faces darkened, for they knew Matvey’s 
strength, and they were almost sure that nothing would be 
left for their share. 

“Start!” said Ciprianowicz. 

Tachewski also felt the power of his opponent at the first 
attack, so that his sword trembled in his hand, but never- 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


n 

theless lie warded off his blow ; he also warded off the second 
one, and after the third he said to himself : 

“He’s not quite so skilful as he is strong !” 

Then, squatting down a little in order to strike the bet- 
ter, he attacked his opponent persistently. 

The other brethren, the edges of their swords lowered to 
the ground, followed, open-mouthed, the progress of the 
duel: they now understood that Tachewski knew his busi- 
ness, and that it was not quite so easy to settle him. A 
minute later they were convinced that he knew his busi- 
ness only too well, and they were seized with a sense of 
uneasiness, for, notwithstanding their constant quarrels, 
they loved each other dearly. Seeing Tachewski’s success- 
ful blows, now one, now another of those present uttered 
an involuntary exclamation. And in the meantime the 
blows became ever more frequent, and the swords flashed 
like lightning. Tachewski was evidently growing more and 
more self-reliant. He was calm, but he jumped about like 
a lynx, and from his sword flashed ominous sparks. 

“Bad !” thought Ciprianowicz. 

At this moment a cry was uttered; Matvey’s sword fell 
to the ground, he brought his hands to his face, which was 
at once covered with blood, and he sank to the ground. 

Seeing this, the younger Bukoyemskis began to bellow 
like bulls, and in an instant they rushed upon Tachewski 
furiously — of course, not to attack him three against one, 
but because each one wanted to be the first to avenge the 
oldest brother. 

And it is quite possible that they would have struck him 
with their swords all at once, if not for Ciprianowicz, who 
sprang to Tachewski’s aid and cried with all his might : 

“Shame! Get away! You are murderers, not nobles!” 

He began to push them aside, until they came to them- 
selves. By that time Matvey raised himself on his hands 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


73 

and turned to them his face, which was covered with con- 
gealed blood. Lukash seized him under the arms and 
seated him on the snow. Yan also hastened to his assist- 
ance. 

And Tachewski came over to Marek, who was gnashing 
his teeth, and began to repeat rapidly, as though fearing 
lest they might renew the attack upon him : 

“Come on ! Come on !” 

And the swords again sounded ominously. But with 
Marek, who was stronger than Matvey, but less skilful in 
fencing, Tachewski had a still easier task. Marek swung 
his huge sword as a rammer, and Pan Tachewski, at the 
third stroke, hit him on the collar-bone, cut the bone and 
disabled him. 

Now Yan and Lukash understood that the same terrible 
fate was awaiting them, and that this young, slender man 
was indeed a wasp which it was best not to tease. Never- 
theless they entered the struggle with all the more ve- 
hemence; but it ended just as sadly for them as for their 
elder brethren: Lukash, his cheek cut to the very gum, 
sank to the ground and struck against a rock as he fell, 
and as for Yan, who was the most skillful of his brethren, 
his sword fell to the ground, together with one of his fin- 
gers, which was chopped off. 

Tachewski was not even scratched. Now he looked with 
surprise at the work of his hands, and the sparks which 
had flashed a minute before in his eyes began to leave them 
little by little. He adjusted his cap with his left hand, for 
during the duel it had moved down on his right ear ; then 
he removed it altogether, heaved a deep sigh, heaved an- 
other sigh, and, turning toward the cross, he said, half to 
Ciprianowicz, half to himself : 

“God is my witness that I am not to blame.” 

Stanislav Ciprianowicz replied to this; 


74 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“Now comes my turn; but you are tired and perhaps 
you want to rest yourself, and meanwhile I will cover my 
comrades with cloaks, that they should not freeze before 
aid comes to them.” 

“Aid is near,” replied Tachewski, “for there in the fog 
is Voinowski’s sleigh, and Voinowski is at present in my 
house. I will go for the sleigh ; the Pan Bukoyemskis will 
feel more comfortable in the sleigh than on the snow.” 

And he went away, and Ciprianowicz began to coveT the 
Bukoyemskis, who, with the exception of Yan, were sitting 
on the snow, shoulder to shoulder. Yan was on his knees 
in front of Matvey, and, holding up his right hand so that 
no blood should come from his chopped-otf finger, he washed 
with his left hand his older brother’s cheek with snow. 

“Well, how do you feel?” asked Ciprianowicz. 

“He bit us, that dog,” replied Lukash, expectorating 
blood abundantly; “but we’ll get square with him yet.” 

“I can’t move my hand at all; he cut my bone,” added 
Marek. “Oh, that dog ! Oh !” 

“And Matvey is wounded over the eyebrow,” said Yan. 
“It is necessary to stop the wound with bread and cob- 
webs, but meanwhile the snow will stop the blood from 
flowings” 

“If my eye had not been covered with blood I would 
have ” said Matvey. 

But he could not finish the sentence, because he became 
weak from the loss of blood. 

Instead, Lukash, seized with a sudden fit of rage, ex- 
claimed : 

“He’s cunning, the dog! He looks like a maiden and he 
stings like a snake !” 

“I’ll not forgive him this cunning !” cried Yan. 

The snorting of horses interrupted their conversation. 
Soon a sleigh was discerned in the mist, and a little later 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


?5 

it stopped near the Bukoyemskis. Tachewski jumped out 
from the sleigh and ordered the driver to get out. 

The driver glanced at the Bukoyemskis, then cast a 
glance at Tachewski and Ciprianowicz, but did not say a 
word. Only his face assumed an expression of mortifica- 
tion, and he turned toward the horses for a second and 
made the sign of the cross. 

Then the three began to lift the wounded and carry them 
on their cloaks into the sleigh. The Bukoyemskis at first 
protested against Tachewski’s aid, but he said to them: 

“And if you had wounded me, would you leave me here 
without any aid ? It is no more than the service of a noble, 
which must be rendered, and which must not be refused.” 

The Bukoyemskis became silent, for Pan Tachewski dis- 
armed them somewhat by his words, and a minute later they 
stretched themselves in the spacious sleigh on the straw, 
where they immediately felt warmer. 

“Where shall I go?” asked the driver. 

“Wait. You’ll take another one,” replied Ciprianowicz, 
and, turning to Tachewski, said : 

“Well, it is time for us now.” 

But Tachewski looked at him with almost friendly eyes. 

“Eh ! Let us rather leave this alone. As it is, only God 
knows why all this has happened, and you took my part 
when the Bukoyemskis attacked me in a crowd. Why 
should we fight ?” 

“We must and we will fight,” replied Ciprianowicz, 
calmly. “You have disgraced me, and even if that were 
not the case, it is now a question of my reputation, do you 
understand? Even if I were to sacrifice my life, even if 
this were my last hour, we must fight !” 

“Well, then, be it so, but it is against my will !” replied 
Tachewski. 


70 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


CHAPTER IV. 

They bared their swords. Ciprianowicz, though not as 
strong as the Bukoyemskis, was more skilful than they. It 
was evident that he had had better teachers and that he 
had been practicing at fairs and in inns. He attacked with 
more ease than they and he warded off more ahly. Ta- 
chewski, in whose heart there was no longer any animosity, 
and who preferred to confine himself to the lesson he had 
given to the Bukoyemskis, began to praise his opponent : 

"It is altogether a different matter with you,” he said; 
"it is evident that you have not taken lessons from the first 
comer.” 

"I’m sorry it wasn’t from you,” replied Ciprianowicz. 

And he was glad for two things : first, for the praise, and 
second, because he too could reply; for only the most expert 
fencer will allow himself to talk during a duel, and a 
friendly conversation in such a case was considered the 
height of courtesy. All this lifted Ciprianowicz up in his 
own eyes. 

And he attacked Tachewski with renewed energy; but 
after several strokes, which were warded off by Tachewski, 
he had to recognize in the depth of his soul the superiority 
of his opponent. Tachewski repulsed the blows as if un- 
willingty, but with the greatest dexterity, and altogether 
lie kept himself as if this were not a duel, but a fencing 
exercise. It was evident that he wanted to find out Cipri- 
anowicz’s limitations and how far he was above the Bu- 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


77 

koyemskis ; and finally, having learned this, he was perfectly 
at ease. Pan Stanislav understood this, too — all his cheer- 
fulness disappeared and he began to attack violently. Then 
Tachewski frowned, as though he had grown tired of this 
amusement, warded off a stroke which is called "false” and 
took the aggressive, and then jumped back. 

"You are wounded !” he said. 

Ciprianowicz indeed felt something on his shoulder; but 
he answered : 

"Never mind ! Go ahead !” 

And he attacked again; but at this very moment the 
point of Taehewski’s sword split his lower lip and the skin 
of his face. Pan Tachewski jumped back once more. 

"You are bleeding!” he said. 

" That’s nothing.” 

"Thank God if it is nothing!” replied Tachewski. "But 
it is enough for me, and I extend to you my hand. You 
have indeed carried yourself like a knight.” 

Ciprianowicz, extremely agitated, but at the same time 
conquered by Tachewskf s words, hesitated a minute whether 
he should stop or resume the duel ; but then he sheathed his 
sword and extended his hand to Tachewski. 

"Be it so; it is true ! I am bleeding.” 

He touched his chin with his left hand and began to 
look with surprise at the blood which stained his palm and 
his fingers. 

"Put some snow on the wound, or it may swell,” said 
Pan Tachewski, "and let us go to the sleigh.” 

Saying this, he took his arm and led him to the Bukoyem- 
skis, who looked at him in silent astonishment. Pan Ta- 
chewski now awakened in them genuine respect for him, 
not only as an excellent fencer, but also as a knight with 
most refined manners, such as they lacked. 


78 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


And only after a minute had passed Matvey asked Cipri- 
anowicz : 

“Well, how are you, Stanislav?” 

“Fairly well. I could walk, but it is better to ride, be- 
cause we can come there sooner.” 

Tachewski sat down near him and shouted to the driver : 

“Virombki !” 

“Where?” asked Ciprianowicz. 

“To me. You will feel uncomfortable in my house, but 
what can you do? In Belchonchki you would frighten the 
women, while in my house Yoinowski, the priest, is waiting, 
and he will dress your wounds, for he is an expert in dress- 
ing wounds. We can send for horses for you, and then 
you may do whatever you please. I will ask the priest to 
go to Belchonchki and cautiously inform them of what has 
happened.” 

Pan Tachewski suddenly became thoughtful, and after 
a pause said : 

“Oh ! It was bad before, and what will it -be now ! May 
God forgive you for insisting upon this duel !” 

“True, we insisted,” replied Ciprianowicz. “I will affirm 
it, and so will the Bukoyemskis.” 

“We’ll affirm it, although my shoulder pains me dread- 
fully,” said Marek, and he began to moan. “Oh, you have 
embellished us; may the devil take you !” 

It was not a long distance to Virombki. They soon rode 
into the yard, where they found the priest Voinowski stand- 
ing in the deep snow. The old man, restless and alarmed, 
could not stay in the house, and he came outside. 

On noticing him, Tachewski jumped out of the sleigh. 
The priest hastened toward him, and, seeing that he was 
safe and sound, exclaimed : 

“Well, how was it there?” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


79 

“Here, you see, I’ve brought them along, ” replied Ta- 
chewski. 

The old man’s face brightened up for a while, but it im- 
mediately became serious, for he caught sight of the blood- 
stained Bukoyemskis and Ciprianowicz in the sleigh. 

He even clasped his hands. 

“All five!” he exclaimed. 

“Yes, all five.” 

“ What an outrage !” Then he turned to the wounded : 

“How do you feel, gentlemen?” 

The wounded raised their caps, all of them, except 
Marek, who could not move his hand because of his broken 
collar-bone. He only moaned and said : 

“He has peppered us nicely !” 

“Hever mind !” said the others. 

“Let us trust in God,” replied the old man. “And now 
let’s come into the house as fast as we can ! I will at once 
examine you.” 

And together with Tachewski he went after the sleigh 
as fast as he could. But he paused for a minute, neverthe- 
less; delight flashed in his eyes. He clasped his arms 
around Tachewski’s neck and said : 

“Yazus! Let me embrace you. You have brought a 
whole load of them, as if they were so many sheaves !” 

Tachewski kissed his hand and said : 

“They wanted it themselves, Holy Father.” 

The priest placed his hand on Taehewski’s head once 
more, as though to bless him, but immediately reconsidered 
that such joy was not becoming to his priestly robes; there- 
fore he looked at Tachewski sternly and said : 

“But you needn’t think that I am approving your ac- 
tion. It is your luck that they wanted it themselves, but the 
sin will remain a sin nevertheless.” 

At the entrance Tachewski rushed over to the sleigh in 


so 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


order to help the driver — and the only servant at his com- 
mand — remove the wounded. 

But all save Marek, who had to be supported, got out with- 
out any assistance, and within a minute they found them- 
selves in the house. Straw was in readiness there, and also 
Tachewski’s bed, which was covered with white, somewhat 
outworn horsehide, and with felt at the head of the bed. 
On the table, by the window, lay bread which had been 
kneaded together with cobweb — an excellent remedy for 
stopping the flow of blood — and also excellent balsams of 
the priest Voinowski for healing. 

The old man at once began to examine the wounds with 
all the skill of a veteran who had seen thousands of them 
in his life, and who could heal them no worse than any 
physician. The matter went smoothly, for, with the ex- 
ception of Marek, all had but slight wounds. Marek’s 
collar-bone required considerably more work. At last, when 
that was also dressed, the priest heaved a sigh and rubbed 
his blood-stained hands. 

““Well,” said he, “thank the Lord Jesus, the affair 
ended without any too serious results. You will probably 
feel relieved shortly, gentlemen.” 

“I am thirsty !” replied Matvey Bukoyemski. 

“That wouldn’t harm. Yatzek, order to have some water 
brought here!” 

But Matvey lifted himself on the straw. 

“Water?” he asked, with astonishment in his voice. 

And Marek, outstretched upon Tachewski’s bed, and 
moaning slightly, suddenly ejaculated: 

“I suppose, Holy Father, you wish to wash your hands.” 

Tachewski looked at the priest in despair ; but the latter 
began to laugh, and said : 

“You’re real soldiers! You may have some wine, but 
not much.” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


81 


Tachewski tugged him by the sleeve behind the screen. 

“Holy Father,” he whispered, “what am I to do now? 
My cellar is empty, my pantry is empty; I am myself fas- 
tening my belt ever tighter and tighter about me. What 
will I give them ?” 

“That’s all right!” said the old man in a whisper. “Come 
out here. I have made arrangements to have everything 
brought here, and if we should run short I will ask the 
brewers of Yedlina for more. Of course, I will ask them as 
though I needed it for myself — for myself. Order a glass- 
ful to each of them, so as to console them after the unfor- 
tunate incident.” 

Yatzek returned soon, and presently the Bukoyemskis be- 
gan to console one another. At the same time their good- 
will toward Tachewski grew from minute to minute. 

“We fought this duel because that may happen with 
anybody,” said Matvey, “but I thought even then that you 
were a worthy knight.” 

“It isn’t true, for I was first to think so,” exclaimed 
Lukash. 

“You thought so? Why, can you think of anything?” 

“Well, now I am thinking that you are a fool, evidently 
I can think. But my lip hurts me.” 

And they began to quarrel; but at this moment a man 
on horseback appeared at the window. 

“Somebody has come here!” said the priest. 

Tachewski went out to see who it was, and a minute 
later he returned, deeply agitated. 

“Pan Pongowski sent his servant,” he said, “and he or- 
dered him to say that he is waiting for you with dinner.” 

“Let him eat his dinner himself,” said Yan. 

“What shall I tell him?” asked Tachewski, looking at 
the priest. 


'$2 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“The best is to tell the truth. And it will be better still 
if I will tell it to him.” 

And, going out to the servant, he said : 

“Tell Pan Pongowski that neither Pan Ciprianowicz nor 
the Pan Bukoyemskis will come, because they were all 
wounded in a duel, to which they challenged Pan Tachew- 
ski; but do not forget to add that they are not seriously 
wounded. God speed you !” 

The servant started off briskly, and the priest, returning 
into the house, began to calm Tachewski, who was still agi- 
tated. He had not feared to meet the five knights, but he 
did fear Pan Pongowski, and he was still more afraid of 
what Panna Seninska would say and think about this. 

The priest said : 

“They would have found this out anyhow, so it is best 
that they learn as soon as possible that it was not your 
fault,” 

“Will you affirm this?” asked Tachewski, once more ad- 
dressing the wounded. 

“We want to drink, but we will certainly affirm this,” 
replied Matvey. 

Nevertheless Taehewskfs agitation grew more intense 
every minute, and when, at last, Pan Pongowski and the 
Starost Grotus stopped at the entrance his heart sank 
within him. He hastened, however, to meet them, and 
bowed before Pongowski; but Pongowski paid not the 
slightest attention to him, as if he did not notice him at 
all, and entered the room with a morose, stern expression 
on his face. 

In the room Pan Pongowski made a courteous bow to the 
priest from afar. The old man had once attacked him 
publicly for being too stern toward his people, and the self- 
reliant nobleman never forgave him for that. And even 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 83 

now, after the cold bow, he turned to the wounded, looked 
at them for about a minute, and said : 

“Gentlemen, after what has happened, I swear that I 
would not have crossed the threshold of this house if it were 
not that I wanted to see you, so deeply have I been grieved 
by the outrage heaped upon you. So this is where my hos- 
pitality has led you ; this is the reward which met my res- 
cuers in my own house ! But I will tell but one thing : that 
he who offended you offended me; he who has shed your 
blood would have done much better if he had shed my own 
blood, for he has disgraced me, who have invited you under 
my roof ” 

At this point Matvey interrupted him: 

“It was not he that challenged us, but we challenged 
him.” 

“Yes,” affirmed Stanislav Ciprianowicz. “This knight 
is not to blame for anything that has happened ; it is our 
fault, and we humbly beg your forgiveness.” 

“The judge should examine the witnesses before pro- 
nouncing the verdict,” said the priest, seriously. 

Lukash also wanted to say something, but at the first 
attempt he felt a terrible pain in his cheek and on his gum, 
which was cut through to his very teeth ; and therefore he 
covered with his hand the salve, which was already getting 
dry, and exclaimed: 

“The deuce take the verdict and my cheek together 
with it!” 

Pan Pongowski was confused to a certain extent by these 
voices, but he did not yield. On the contrary, he surveyed 
everybody with his stem eyes, as he wanted thus to express 
his disapproval to Yatzek’s defenders, and he said : 

“It is not for me to forgive my rescuers. You have 
no fault whatever in the matter. On the contrary, I under- 
stand very well, because I have seen how contemptuously 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


84 

you were treated. In truth, the same envy which could 
not on a dead horse overtake the live wolves finally aroused 
in him a desire for vengeance. I was not the only one to 
notice that this ‘knight/ whom you are defending iso 
nobly, did everything he could, from the first moment that 
he met you, to incite you to this act. It is rather my fault, 
for I should have stopped him ; I should have told him to 
look for more suitable company for himself in an inn or 
on the market-place.” 

Tachewski turned pale as a sheet when he heard this, 
and priest Voinowski’s blood rushed to his head. 

“They challenged him! What was he to do? Shame 
yourself, Pan Pongowski !” exclaimed the priest. 

But Pan Pongowski looked down at him and replied : 

“This is a worldly matter, in which laymen are quite as 
well versed as clergymen, and perhaps even more so; but 
nevertheless I will tell you that no one ever accused me of 
being unjust. What was he to do ? As a young man toward 
his elder, as a guest toward his host, as a man who had so 
many times enjoyed my bread when he was short of his 
own, he was first of all obliged to inform me of this mat- 
ter, and I as the host would have set everything right. I 
would not have permitted that my rescuers, such worthy 
knights, should bleed here, in this wretched room, on straw, 
as in a barn.” 

“You would have considered me a coward!” cried Ta- 
ehewski, trembling feverishly. 

Pan Pongowski did not reply to his words, for he showed 
as soon as he entered that he took no notice of him; he 
turned to Ciprianowicz and said : 

“Pan Ciprianowicz, we are going at once to your father, 
to express to him our sympathy. I do not doubt that he 
will not refuse to come to Belchonchki, where I invite you 
and your comrades. I remind you again, you are here acci- 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


85 

dentally, and in reality you are my guests, to whom I wish 
to express my heartiest gratitude. Your father, Pan Cipri- 
anowicz, cannot come to the house of the man who bruised 
you, and under my roof you will have great conveniences, 
and you will not die of hunger, something which may hap- 
pen with you if you stay here.” 

Ciprianowicz felt very much confused and did not reply 
for a minute. Would it be right to act that way with Ta- 
chewski? And, besides, his lip and chin, which began to 
swell under the plaster, disfigured his face badly. 

“I have not experienced here either hunger or thirst,” 
he said, “which is already probatu tu fuit ; but we are really 
your guests, and my father, not knowing all the circum- 
stances in the case, may not feel like coming here. But 
how can I appear before your relatives with such a dis- 
figured face, which can arouse nothing but disgust?” 

He frowned, because his lip began to pain him from the 
long speech ; and, indeed, he did not look very attractive. 

But Pan Pongowski replied : 

“Don’t worry on this account. My relatives will be filled 
with disgust, but not against your wounds, which will heal 
up quickly, and you will look as you did before. Three 
sleds with servants will come over here immediately for 
you, and comfortable beds are awaiting you in my house. 
Meanwhile, good-bye, for I am hastening to Yedlina with 
the Starost.” 

And he bowed to all, especially to the priest; but he did 
not even shake his head to Tachewski. When he approached 
the door the priest went over to him and said : 

“You have too little mercy and justice.” 

Pan Pongowski replied to this : 

“I repent my sins at confession.” 

He walked out, and the Starost Grotus followed him. 

Tachewski stood all this time as upon red-hot iron. His 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


86 

face changed every minute, and at times he did not know 
whether he should fall to Pan Pongowski’s feet begging 
him for forgiveness, or whether he should seize him by the 
throat for all the humiliation which he had experienced. 
But he managed to remember that he was in his own house, 
and that the man before him was the guardian of Panna 
Seninska. Thus, when Pan Pongowski walked out, Tachew- 
ski went after him, without giving himself any account of 
what he was doing ; he went out partly because it was custo- 
mary for the host to accompany his guests, and partly be- 
cause he was drawn by a certain' blind hope that perhaps 
at the very last moment the stem Pan Pongowski would 
nod his head to him. But this hope also deceived him ; only 
Pan Grotus, evidently a kind and considerate man, shook 
his hand in the doorway and whispered : 

“ Don’t despair, knight; the first anger will pass, and 
then all will be right. 

But Tachewski did not think so ; and he would have been 
perfectly right if he knew that Pan Pongowski, though 
really enraged and indignant, showed greater irritation 
than he really felt. Ciprianowicz and the Bukoyemskis 
were indeed his rescuers, but Tachewski only wounded them, 
and a duel was in itself an ordinary thing, which did not 
call forth such inexorable indignation. But ever since Pan 
Grotus told Pongowski that older men than he got married, 
and sometimes leave even posterity, he looked with alto- 
gether different eyes upon Panna Seninska. That of which 
he had not thought before suddenly seemed to him not only 
possible, but even attractive. At the thought of the girl, 
who was as wonderful as a rose, his soul became warm and 
his pride grew more intense. How the renewed stem of the 
Pongowski s would blossom and grow in a union with such 
a patrician as Seninska, who was not only a relative of all 
famous families in the republic, but also the last offspring 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


87 

of a family, out of the wealth of which rose the Zhulkew- 
skis, the Danilowiczs and the Sobieskis and many others. 
Pan Pongowski’s head began to reel, and he began to feel 
that it was essential not only to him but to the whole re- 
public that the family of the Pongowskis should be pro- 
longed. But soon came the apprehension that this might not 
be realized — that Panna Seninska might fall in love with 
another and might give him her hand. He knew no one 
worthier than himself in the entire neighborhood ; but there 
were three younger men. Who? Ciprianowicz ? Yes! 
He was young, handsome and very rich, but his nobility 
counted but three generations back. That such a homo 
novus should marry Panna Seninska ! He could not en- 
tertain this idea under any circumstances. As for the Bu- 
koyemskis, although they belonged to a good family and 
called themselves relatives of Saint Peter, it was ridiculous 
to think of them. Only Tachewski remained — poor, it is 
true, like a church-mouse, but he was of the ancient family 
of the mighty knights of Tachew, of the coat-of-arms of 
Powal, one of whom, a real hero, and participant in the 
massacre of the Germans under Grunwald, was renowned 
not only in the republic, but also in foreign courts. Ta- 
chewski alone could compare with the Seninskas, and then 
he was young, brave, handsome, sad (and this very often 
touches women’s hearts), a frequent guest at Belchonchki, 
a great friend of the Panna, almost like a brother. And 
then Pan Pongowski began to recall various things: the 
misunderstandings and the quarrels of the young people; 
their reconciliation and friendship ; various looks and 
words, and their sorrows and mutual joys and their smiles. 
And everything to which he had paid no attention before 
now aroused his suspicions. Yes ! Danger there was, and 
it threatened only from that side. The old noble thought 
that Panna Seninska was at least partly the cause of the 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. . 


88 

duel, and he was frightened in the depth of his soul. In 
order to forestall the danger, he first of all took precau- 
tions to present to the young lady all the disgrace of Ta- 
c-hewski’s act and awaken in her the desired indignation, 
and then, displaying his anger as much greater than it 
really was, to destroy all the bridges between Belchonchki 
and Yirombki, and by heartlessly humiliating Taehewski 
close before him the doors of his house. 

And he attained his aim. Taehewski, returning into the 
house, clutched his hair, lowered his head and maintained 
silence, as though grown dumb with grief. 

Priest Voinowski came over to him and placed his hand 
on his shoulder. 

“Yatzek, what you must suffer, suffer !” he said, “but 
your foot must not cross the threshold of that house.” 

“It shall be so,” replied Taehewski, in a dull voice. 

“But you must not yield to grief. Do not forget who 
you are.” 

Taehewski set his teeth firmly together. 

“I remember that, but that makes it all the bitterer.” 

Here Ciprianowiez interposed : 

“Hone of us can justify Pan Pongowski, because it is 
one thing to reprimand, and quite another to trample upon 
one’s honor.” 

The Bukoyemskis also began to stir; and Matvey, for 
whom it was comparatively easier to speak, said : 

“I’ll not say anything in his house, but when I get well 
and meet him some time on the road or at some neighbor’s 
I’ll tell him to kiss a dog’s snout.” 

“Oi, oi!” added Marek. “To insult such a worthy 
knight ! There will come a time when I will remind him 
about it.” 

By this time came three sleds, covered with rugs, and 
three servants, aside from the drivers. Taehewski dared not 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


89 


detain the wounded, first, because old Ciprianowicz might 
come there, and second, because they were really Pongow- 
ski’s guests; and, besides, they would not stay there, any- 
way, after they had learned of his poverty, in order not 
to be a burden unto him. They began to bid him farewell 
and to thank him for his hospitality as sincerely as though 
nothing had occurred between them. 

But when Ciprianowicz seated himself in the last sled 
Tachewski suddenly jumped over to him and said : 

“I am going with you ! I can’t bear this any longeT ! I 
can’t bear it ! Until Pan Pongowski returns, I must — for 
the last time ” 

Priest Yoinowski knew Tachewski; he understood that 
no entreaties would be of any avail; nevertheless he drew 
him behind the screen and began to reason with him : 

“ Yazko ! Yazko ! Again mulier! Look out, or you will 
be insulted still worse. Remember what Ecclesiastes says : 
‘Virum de mille unum reperi, mulierem omnibus non in- 
vent !' Remember and have mercy upon yourself !” 

But his words were useless. A minute later Tachewski 
sat side by side with Ciprianowicz, and they started off. 
By that time the east wind dispersed the mist, drove it up 
to the forest, and the sun began to shine brightly in the 
blue sky. 


90 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


CHAPTER V. 

Pan Pongowski did not at all exaggerate when he spoke 
of the disgust which the ladies living in Belchonchki felt 
against the victor. Tachewski convinced himself of this at 
the first glance. Pani Vinicka came out to meet him 
with an expression of dissatisfaction on her face, and she 
withdrew her hand, which he was about to kiss; and Panna 
Seninska was not moved by his confusion and embarrass- 
ment : she did not even pay attention to his bow, and busied 
herself completely with Ciprianowicz. Sparing neither 
tender looks nor anxious inquiries, she went so far in her 
tenderness toward Ciprianowicz that when he rose from his 
chair in the dining-room, in order to go into the room set 
aside for the wounded, she took his arm and, though he 
excused himself in every manner, she led him to the door. 

“There is no room for you here — all is lost !” despair and 
jealousy cried in Tachewski’s heart at the sight of this. It 
pained him all the more because he could not understand 
how the same girl, whose bearing toward him was so incon- 
constant, and who usually replied indifferently, if not 
harshly, to his impassioned w r ords — he could not under- 
stand how she could be so gentle and so angelically kind to 
the man she liked. And that Panna Seninska loved Cipri- 
anowicz, Tachewski no longer doubted for a moment. He 
would be willing to suffer not only such a wound as Cipri- 
anowicz sustained; he would gladly shed all his blood in 
order that she should at least once in life speak to him in 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


91 ' 

such a voice and look at him with such eyes. Now, together 
with this acute pain, he was seized with immeasurable grief, 
which came to his eyes in a stream of tears, which, if they 
will not gush forth from the eyes and roll down the cheeks, 
will drown the heart and will fill up the whole being. Now, 
Tachewski felt that all his breast was overflowing with 
tears, and, in addition to this, Panna Seninska. had never 
before seemed to him so wonderfully beautiful as now, with 
her pale face and ash-colored hair, which was slightly ruf- 
fled from excitement. 

“She looks like an angel,” grief spoke within him, “but 
not for you ! She’s beautiful, but another will take her.” 

And he wanted to fall before her feet and at her knees 
pour out all his misery and his love ; and at the same time 
he felt that, after what had happened, he could not do it — 
that if he should not master himself and should not sup- 
press his inner discord, he would not tell her that which 
he wanted to tell her, and would altogether lower himself 
in her eyes. 

By this time Pani Yinicka, as an elderly lady, and one 
who knew how to dress wounds, followed Ciprianowicz into 
the adjoining room, and Panna Seninska was returning. 
Tachewski understood that he must avail himself of the op- 
portunity, and he walked over to her. 

“I wanted to say one word to you,” he said, in a quiver- 
ing voice, endeavoring to be calm. 

She looked at him in cold amazement. 

“What is it you wish?” 

Tachewski’s face lit up with a sick, almost martyr-like 
smile. 

“What I wish will never be, even though I were to sacri- 
fice the salvation of my soul for it,” he said, nodding his 
head; “but I ask of you one thing: do not blame me, do 


93 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


not be angry at me, have at least a little mercy for me, be- 
cause I am not of stone, nor of iron ” 

“I can’t say anything in reply to you,” said Panna Se- 
ninska; “and, besides, now is not the time for it.” 

“Oh, it is always the time to say a word of encourage- 
ment to the man who finds it hard in the world !” 

“Shall I do it, perhaps, because you have wounded my 
rescuers ?” 

“ God is always on the side of the innocent. The servant 
who came to these knights in Virombki must have told you 
what priest Voinowski instructed him — that I was not first 
to challenge them. Is it possible that you don’t know 
about it?” 

She did know. The servant, as a simple fellow, did not 
repeat the words of the priest, but cried out that “the young 
Pan of Virombki slashed them all”; but then Pan Pon- 
gowski, returning from Virombki, came into the house and 
told them everything as it really happened. He feared lest 
the news that Taehewski was challenged to fight the duel 
should reach the young lady from some other source, and 
might thus weaken her anger, and therefore he preferred 
to present the matter himself, not failing to add that Ta- 
chewski had, by cruel insults, forced them to challenge him. 
He had also counted that Panna Seninska, understanding 
things like a woman, would always be on the side of those 
that suffered most. 

Nevertheless it seemed to Taehewski that the beloved 
eyes looked at him less sternly, and therefore he repeated 
the question : 

“Did you know about it?” 

“I did,” she replied; “but I remembered that which you 
should have remembered, if you had the slightest sympathy 
with me: those knights have saved my life. I have also 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


93 


learned from my guardian that they were forced to chal- 
lenge you.” 

“I have no sympathy with you? May God, who looks 
into human hearts, judge of this.” 

The girl’s eyes began to blink. Suddenly she tossed her 
head back, so that her braid fell to the other shoulder, and 
she said: 

“Yes.” 

And he went on, in a slightly choked and very sad voice : 

“You have said the truth — the truth! I should have 
allowed them to cut me to pieces, only not to annoy you. 
Then the blood which is so dear to you would not have been 
shed. But now it can’t be helped in any way. Your guar- 
dian told you that I compelled them to challenge me. I 
leave that to the judgment of God ! But did he, at least, 
tell you how mercilessly he mocked me under my own roof ? 
I have come here because I know that he is away. I have 
come in order to take the last look at you. I know it is 
all the same to you, but I thought that at least ” 

Here Tachewski broke off, because the tears welled up to 
his throat. Panna Seninska’s lips began to tremble, assum- 
ing the shape of a horseshoe; and only pride, and together 
with it maidenly timidity, struggled within her with agi- 
tation. But she suppressed this agitation, perhaps that 
she might draw out from Tachewski still more plaintive 
declarations, and perhaps because she did not believe that 
he would really go away, never to return to her. There 
had been several misunderstandings between them, and 
Pan Pongowski had more than once caused him painful 
disagreeablenesses ; and yet, after a brief irritation, there 
would be a silent invitation to come to Belchonchki, and 
all would be as before. 

“It’ll be the same thing now !” thought Panna Seninska, 
And as it was sweet to her to listen to him, and to look at 


94 


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the great love which he expressed, though he dared not 
utter it in definite terms, together with absolute submis- 
siveness, the Panna wished that he should continue to speak 
in his wonderful voice, that he should keep on placing at 
her feet his }T>ung, loving and suffering heart. 

But Tachewski, inexperienced in love affairs and blind 
like all lovers, did not notice and did not understand what 
was going on within her. Her silence he mistook for 
hardened indifference, and bitterness began to fill his heart 
little by little. The calmness with which he spoke at first 
began to leave him; his eyes began to glisten differently; 
drops of cold perspiration appeared on his temples. Some- 
thing was fluttering and breaking in his soul. He was 
seized with such profound despair that he ceased to reason, 
and he was ready with his own hands to open his own heart- 
wounds. 

He spoke with apparent calmness, but his voice sounded 
differently — it was firmer and broader. 

“ Yes !” he said. “Well, then — not a word ?” 

Panna Seninska shrugged her shoulders. 

“Yes; the priest was right when he said that I would 
meet still greater insult here.” 

“How have I insulted you?” she asked, unpleasantly sur- 
prised at the sudden change which took place in him. 

But Tachewski went on : 

“If I had not seen how tenderly you treated Cipriano- 
wicz I would have thought that there is no heart in your 
breast. But you have a heart — only for him, not for me. 
He looked at you — and that was enough !” 

Suddenly he clutched his hair with both his hands. 

“It were better if they had cut me to death !” 

Panna Seninska felt as if scorched with fire. Her cheeks 
reddened, her eyes began to flash with anger at Tachewski 
as well as at herself, because a minute before she had been 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


95 

on the point of bursting into tears. Profound and unex- 
pected insult oppressed her heart. 

“You have lost your reason !” she exclaimed, lifting her 
head and throwing her hair back. 

And Panna Seninska wanted to go away ; but this drove 
Taehewski almost to madness. He seized her by the hands 
and held her. 

“You will go away and I will go away!” he uttered 
through his firmly set teeth. “But before parting I will 
tell you one thing: although for many years I loved you 
more than my health, more than my life, more than my 
soul, Fll never come here again. Even if I should gnaw 
my hands for pain, I will not come back — and may the 
Lord help me in this !” 

And leaving on the floor his womout cap, he rushed to 
the door, passed by the windows, turning toward the gar- 
den, through which it was easier to reach Yirombki, and 
disappeared. 

Panna Seninska stood as though thunderstruck. Her 
thoughts ran wild, and at this moment she could not un- 
derstand what had happened. But when she collected her 
thoughts her anger disappeared, the feeling of having been 
offended disappeared, and in her ears rang only Taehewski’s 
words : “ I loved you more than my health, more than my 
life, more than my soul — and I will not come back again !” 
Only now she began to feel that he would never return, 
and just because he loved her so dearly. Why did she not 
say at least one kind word to him, which he, before he had 
been seized with madness, had begged as alms, as a piece 
of bread for the journey? He rushed away infuriated; 
perhaps he may fall somewhere on the road, or perhaps he 
may do something wrong in despair. One kind word could 
have softened and adjusted all this. If he could but hear 
her voice ! Beyond the garden he would have to cross the 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


96 

brook on the way to the meadow, and there he may hear her. 
And she ran out into the garden. The snow was deep 
on the middle path, but Tachewski’s steps were clearly vis- 
ible upon it, nd she followed them, knee-deep in snow. 
She lost her rosary on the way, her handkerchief and the 
cotton bag, and, breathing with difficulty, reached the gate 
of the garden at last. 

“Pan Yatzek !” 

But the meadow beyond the gate was empty. The wind, 
which had driven the morning mist away, was now blowing 
noisily through the branches of the apple trees and pear 
trees. Then, paying no heed to her light dress, she sat 
down on the bench near the gate and began to cry. 

Large tear-drops, like gems, rolled down her rosy cheeks, 
and she, not knowing wherewith to wipe them away, began 
to wipe them with her braid. 

“He’ll not return !” 

And the wind meanwhile blew with still greater force, 
shaking the moist snow off from the black branches of the 
trees. 

When Tachewski, like a whirlwind, without his cap and 
with disheveled hair, came rushing to Virombki, priest 
Voinowski surmised what had happened, and he said: 

“I have predicted it to you! May the Lord help you, 
Yatzko, but I will not ask you a word until you have come 
to yourself.” 

“All’s over, all’s over!” replied Tachewski. 

And he began to pace the room like a wild beast in a 
cage. 

The priest did not say another word, and did not inter- 
fere with him in any way ; and only after a long time he 
embraced him, kissed him on the crown of the head, and 
then, taking him by the hand, led him behind the screen. 

There he knelt before the crucifix which hung over Ta- 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


97 

chewski’s bed, and when the young man also knelt beside 
him he began : 

“0 Lord, Thou knowest what sorrow is, for Thou sor- 
rowed on the cross for human sins. 

“And here I bring before Thee my bleeding heart, and 
I pray at Thy pierced feet that Thou have mercy on me. 

“And I do not call upon Thee: take away my sorrow; 
but I pray : give me strength to bear it, 

“For I am a soldier in Thy service, 0 Lord, and I wish 
to serve Thee and my mother, the Republic. 

“But how am I to do it, if my heart has grown faint and 
my right hand weak ? 

“Make it so that I shall forget about myself, and that I 
shall remember only Thy glory and to save my mother — 
and these are greater matters than the sorrow of such an 
insignificant worm as I am. 

“And strengthen me, 0 Lord, in my saddle, that I, fight- 
ing against the heathen, shall come unto an honorable 
death and into heaven. 

“For the sake of Thy crown of thorns, hear me! 

“For the sake of Thy wounds, hear me ! ‘ 

“For the sake of Thy pierced hands and feet, hear me!” 

They knelt for a long time, but already in the middle of 
the prayer it was evident that the pain had broken in Ta- 
chewski’s heart, for he suddenly covered his face with his 
hands and began to sob. And when they rose and went 
into the other room priest Voinowski heaved a deep sigh 
and said: 

“Yatzko, dearest, I have experienced a great deal during 
my military life; I have experienced misery compared with 
which your present sorrow is as nothing; but I don’t want 
to speak of it. I will tell you but one thing : in the hour of 
the most unbearable pain I delivered this same prayer, and 
I attribute my deliverance to it. Since then I have repeated 


98 


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it whenever misfortune came, and it always brought me 
great relief. Therefore I have read it just now. Well, has 
it not brought to you relief? Tell me.” 

“ Though it still pains me, it seems to me it does not 
burn so much now,” replied Tachewski. 

“Well, there, you see! Now, drink some wine, and I 
will tell you, or, rather, I will show you something which 
must give you courage. Look !” 

And, bending down his head, he showed him a terrible 
scar, white, among the white hair, across the entire skull, 
and said: 

“I nearly died from this. The wound pained me dread- 
fully, but the scar does not pain me. That is the way it is 
always, Yatzko. Your wound will also stop paining when 
it will become a scar in time. And now tell me, what has 
happened ?” 

Yatzek began to tell him, but the story did not run 
smoothly. By nature he could not invent, or exaggerate, 
or color, and now he was surprised how all that had touched 
him so painfully did not appear so terrible in his story. 
Nevertheless the priest, a man evidently experienced and 
one who knew the world, listened to the end, and said : 

“I understand that it is hard to translate into words a 
look or a motion which may have been really contemptuous 
and offensive. It has happened that on account of a single 
glance or a single motion of the hand people fought duels 
and shed one another’s blood. The principal thing is that 
you told that girl that you will never return. Youth is 
usually light-minded, and when it is guided by pangs of 
love is changeable as the moon in the skies. And love is 
just the same as luna mendax, which seems small at its 
appearance, but then grows as it approaches the full- 
moon. Well, have you a firm determination to keep your 
promise?” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


99 


“I said, ‘May God help me!’ and, if yon wish, I will re- 
peat my vow before the crucifix.” 

“ But what do you intend to do with yourself ?” 

“I’ll go wherever my eyes will lead me.” 

“I had expected it, and had long advised you to do this. 
I knew what detained you, but now that you’ve broken the 
chain — -yes ! go where your eyes will lead you. Here you 
have nothing to wait for ; you have not met anything good 
here, nor will you meet it here. It was ruining you. Fortu- 
nately I was near you and have taught^ you a little Latin 
and how to handle the sword, or you had been a real peas- 
ant. Don’t thank me, Yazus ; it came from my hearty in- 
clination to do it. I will feel lonesome without you, but 
here is not a question about me. You are going where 
your eyes will lead you — that is, as I understand it, you 
are going to enter the army. This is the straightest and 
worthiest road, all the more so because the war is to be 
against the pagans. They say that with the pen one can 
attain a high position sooner than with the sword, but this 
is hardly belonging to such blood. as yours.” 

“I have not thought of any other service,” replied Ta- 
chewski; “but I will not join the infantry, and I cannot get 
into the best regiments because I am a pauper.” 

“A noble who knows Latin and who can handle a sword 
will always attain his aim,” the priest interrupted him; 
“but, of course, it goes without saying that you must be 
well equipped. We must consider this. And meanwhile I 
will tell you something of which I never spoke to you: I 
have for you ten gold pieces, which your deceased mother 
left with me, and a letter in which she asked me to give 
them to you only in case of extreme emergency. Well, the 
decisive moment has come. Your mother was worthy and 
devout, though very unfortunate, for when the poor woman 


100 


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was dying there was the direst want in the house, and that 
which she gave me was torn away from herself ” 

“May the Lord rest her soul,” replied Yatzek. .“Let the 
gold pieces go for the repose of her soul, and I will sell 
Virombki for whatever I am offered.” 

On hearing this the priest was so touched that tears glis- 
tened in his eyes, and he again pressed Tachewski’s hand. 

“ You have noble blood in you,” he said, “but you cannot 
refuse your mother’s gift, even for this purpose. There 
will be no lack of praying for your mother — you may rest 
easy on that account; she hardly needs them; the prayers 
will be good for other souls, pining in purgatory. As for 
Virombki, it is better to mortgage it, because a noble who 
possesses even a small piece of land is regarded differently 
— he’s a land-owner, after all.” 

“But I can’t wait. I should like to go away to-day.” 

“You will not go to-day, although the sooner the better. 
First of all I must prepare letters to my colleagues and ac- 
quaintances. I shall have to talk with the brewers in Yed- 
lina; their bags are full, and they have horses which even 
an armored knight need not feel ashamed to ride. I have 
at home an old armor and a few swords, not so much embel- 
lished as tried on Swedish and Turkish bodies.” 

The priest looked out of the window and added : 

“The sled is ready; it’s time for him to go who must go !” 

Tachewski’s face again became distorted with pain. He 
kissed the priest’s hand and said : 

“Another request, holy father and my benefactor: allow 
me to go together with you and to stay with you until I go 
away. From here I can see those roofs, and I — am very 
near to them ” 

“I wanted to suggest that to you. You have nothing to 
do here, and I shall be glad with all my soul to have you 
with me. Eh, Yazus! Cheer up! The world does not 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


101 


end in Belchonchki; it is all wide open before yon. When 
you once mount your horse God knows where you will go. 
The war is awaiting you, fame is awaiting you, and what 
is sore to-day will dry up. I can already see how wings 
are growing behind your shoulders. Fly, then, God’s bird, 
because you have been created for that and predestined.” 

And joy, like a sunbeam, lit up the worthy countenance 
of the priest. In soldier fashion he struck himself on the 
knees and exclaimed : 

“And now take your cap and march!” 

But small things sometimes stand in the way of big 
things, and the comical mingles with the pathetic. Yatzek 
looked around, then glanced mournfully at the priest and 
repeated : 

“My cap?” 

“Of course! You’ll not go bareheaded, will you?”. 

“There you are!” 

“What is it?” 

“And what if it remained in Belchonchki?” 

“What’s to be done?” 

“What’s to be done? I’ll have to take it from the work- 
man ; I can’t go with a peasant’s cap ” 

“You can’t go with a peasant’s cap,” repeated the priest; 
“then send to Belchonchki for yours.” 

“Under no circumstances!” cried Yatzek. 

But the old man was becoming excited. 

“What’s this! War, glory, a great field — that’s all very 
good, but you need a cap, too !” 

“At the bottom of my trunk there is an old hat which 
my father had taken from a Swedish officer under Tre- 
meshni.” 

“Then put it on and come !” 

Yatzek disappeared behind the screen, and a minute later 
he came out in a horseman’s yellow hat, which was much too 


102 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


wide for his head. Enlivened by this sight, the priest 
touched his left side, as though he was looking for his 
sword, and he said : 

"It is good yet that it is a Swedish hat and not a Turkish 
turban. But even this is a perfect masquerade.” 

Yatzek smiled, and said : 

"There are some stones in the buckle; perhaps they’re 
worth something.” 

Then they seated themselves in the sled and started off. 
Soon, beyond the leafless alder-trees, as on a palm, Bel- 
chonchki became visible; and the priest began to watch 
Yatzek closely; but Tachewski pulled down the Swedish hat 
over his eyes, and he did not even look in that direction, 
although his cap remained there. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


103 


CHAPTER VI. 

“He'll not return! all is lost!” said Panna Seninska to 
herself. 

And how strange ! There were five men in the house, of 
whom one was young and handsome, and, aside from the 
Starost Grotus, old Ciprianowicz was expected to come; in 
a word, there were seldom so many guests in Belchonchki, 
and yet it seemed to Panna Seninska that she was suddenly 
surrounded by emptiness; and she felt that something was 
missing, that the house was empty, that she was all alone, 
as in a desert, and it would remain thus forever. 

Her heart contracted with acute pain, and she felt as one 
who loses a near relation. She was sure that Tachewski 
would not come back, all the more so because Pan Pon- 
gowski had mortally offended him; and yet she could not 
picture to herself how it would be without him, without his 
face, his words, his laughter, his looks. What would be to- 
morrow, the day after to-morrow, a week later, a month 
later; wherefore was she to rise in the morning, wherefore 
was she to plait her hair, for whom was she to dress herself 
up, and what was she to live for at all ? 

And she felt as though her heart had been a candle and 
some one had suddenly blown it .out. 

There was nothing more — nothing but gloom and empti- 
ness. 

But when she entered the house and noticed Tachewski’s 
cap on the floor all her indefinite feelings retreated before 


104 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


one simple and great sorrow for him. Again her heart 
began to speak within her, again it began to call him. Now 
a ray of hope brightened her soul. Taking up the cap, she 
involuntarily pressed it to her heart; then she hid it in her 
sleeve and began to meditate thus : 

“He will not come here every day as before, but before 
my guardian and Pan Grotus will return from Yedlina he 
must come back for his cap; then I will see him and tell 
him that he was cruel and unjust, and that he should not 
have acted thus.” 

But she was not sincere with her own self, because she 
wished to tell him more, to find some warm, kind word 
which would again tie together the torn thread. If this 
would happen, if they could meet in the church on friendly 
terms, or at their neighbors’, then there would be some way 
in which to set the matter right. What that way would 
have to be, and what was to set right, Panna Seninska 
did not consider at the present moment, for she was wholly 
occupied with the thought of how to see Tachewski as soon 
as possible. 

At this time Pani Yinicka came out of the room where 
the wounded lay, and, noticing the girl’s agitated face and 
her reddened eyes, she began to calm her : 

“Don’t be afraid ; nothing wrong will come of this. Only 
one of the Bukoyemskis suffered, and he will also get off 
easily. The wounds of the others are trifling. Besides, the 
priest Voinowski had dressed them so well that there was 
no need to change anything. They are all in a cheerful 
frame of mind.” 

“Thank God!” 

“Has Tachewski gone away? What did he want here?” 

“He brought the wounded.” 

“Well, who could have expected such a thing of him?” 

“They challenged him themselves,” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


105 


“They don’t deny that; hut the thing is that he cut them 
all up — five of them, one after another! And I thought 
he’d be afraid of a hen.” 

“Then you did not know him, auntie,” replied Panna 
Seninska, with some pride. 

But even in Pani Vinicka’s voice there was a sound of 
respect, for, having been born and bred in those parts 
of the country which were subject to frequent invasions 
of Tartars, she had learned from her early childhood to 
respect valor, and the skill of handling a sword she consid- 
ered as the greatest virtue in a man. Thus, now that the 
first fear for the guests had passed, she began to look at 
this duel with altogether different eyes. 

“Still,” she said, “I must say that they are also worthy 
knights, because they are not only not angry at him, but 
they even praise him; especially does Ciprianowicz praise 
him. ‘That’s a born soldier,’ he says. And they even take 
offense at Pan Pongowski, who overstepped all limits at 
Yirombki, according to their words.” 

“You, auntie, did not receive him much better.” 

“Because he deserved it. And did you receive him 
well?” 

“IP” 

“Yes, you ! I saw how you were pouting at him.” 

“My dear auntie ” 

The girl suddenly became silent, for she felt that she 
would burst into tears at any moment. During the con- 
versation Tachewski had grown still more in her eyes. 
Alone against such experienced men, and yet he wounded 
them all, he conquered them all ! True, he used to say that 
he went against a bear with a hunting-pole; but, then, the 
peasants, who live near the forest, arm themselves with 
nothing but cudgels, and this did not seem remarkable in 
any way. But to conquer five knights, only a knight more 


106 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


skillful and braver than they could do that. It seemed 
simply wonderful to Panna Seninska that a man who pos- 
sessed such melancholy and gentle eyes could be so terrible 
in battle. It showed, then, that he had yielded to her alone ; 
that he endured all only on her account; that he was timid 
and deferent before her alone. Why? Because he loved 
her better than his health, better than happiness, better 
than the salvation of his soul. An hour ago he had con- 
fessed it to her himself. 

And again sorrow rushed to her heart like an enormous 
wave. But at the same time she felt that something had 
changed in their relations with each other, and that if she 
saw him again, and then met him frequently, she would not 
allow herself to play with him as she had done before, now 
throwing him into despair, now giving him hope, now re- 
pulsing him, now attracting him. She felt that she would 
involuntarily regard him with greater respect and that she 
would become more submissive and careful. 

At times another voice would start to speak within her, 
reminding her that Tachewski was vehement toward her, 
that he told her a number of bitter and offensive words — 
more than she had said to him. But that voice grew ever 
fainter and fainter, and the desire to make peace with him 
grew stronger and stronger. 

If he would only come before they had returned from 
Yedlina! But an hour passed, then another, and a third, 
and he did not come. Then it occurred to her that it was 
too late for him to come at this hour, and that he would 
send some one for his cap. 

She decided to send a letter together with the cap, and 
in that letter she resolved to say all that weighed upon her 
heart. And as the messenger might come at any moment, 
she wanted to prepare everything in advance. She locked 
herself in her room and began to write ; 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


10 ? 

“May God forgive you for the vexation in which you left 
me, for if you could have looked into my heart you would 
not have acted as you did. Therefore I am not only return- 
ing to you your cap, but am also adding a kind word, that 
you may be happy and that you forget ” 

Here she noticed that she was writing not as she was 
thinking. She felt that it was not at all necessary for her 
that he should forget, and therefore she began to write an- 
other letter, with still greater agitation. 

“I am sending you your cap because I know that I will 
never see you again in Belchonchki, and you will not cry 
about anybody, and certainly not about an orphan like me ; 
and I shall not cry about you, either, for you were unjust 
toward me, and however sorry I should feel for you, I shall 
not cry ” 

But she contradicted herself, for large tear-drops imme- 
diately fell upon the paper. How should she send such a 
proof, especially that it came from the very depths of her 
heart? After a while it appeared to her that it would be 
better not to write at all about his injustice and vehemence 
toward her, because that might anger him still more. While 
thinking in this strain she began to look for a third sheet 
of paper, but she could not find it. She was disarmed, for 
if she were to ask Pani Vinicka for paper she would have 
to undergo a cross-examination and to answer questions 
which she could not answer very well. Panna Seninska 
felt that she was losing her head, and that she could under 
no circumstances write to Tachewski just what she would 
like to write; she was terribly fatigued, and, woman-like, 
seeking for relief in her sorrow, she again gave vent to her 
tears. 

It became dark by that time. Bells were heard jingling 
in front of the house. Pan Pongowski was returning home 
with the guests. Everywhere in the house lamps were lit — « 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


108 

night was closing in. The girl wiped her tears away and 
entered the drawing-room, fearing lest they might find out 
that she had been crying, and they might think God knows 
what, or they might ply her with questions. But only Pan 
Pongowski and Pan Grotus were in the room ; Pan Ciprian- 
owicz was not there, and Panna Seninska, desiring to direct 
attention from herself, immediately began to inquire about 
him. 

“He went to his son and to the Bukoyemskis,” replied 
Pan Pongowski. “But I have calmed him on the road; I 
told him that nothing serious had happened.” 

Then he looked at her steadfastly, and his usually morose 
face and gray, stern eyes beamed with a particular kind- 
ness. He came nearer to her, placed his hand on the girl’s 
fair hair, and said : 

“You are worrying in vain. They will all be well within 
two days. Well, well, that’s enough! We are obliged to 
he grateful to them, it is true, and therefore I have taken 
their part ; but in reality these people are strangers to us — 
they are not our equals.” 

“Hot our equals?” she repeated, like an echo, in order 
to say something. 

“Of course not! for the Bukoyemskis are paupers and 
Ciprianowicz homo novus. But, then, what have I to do 
with that? They’ll go away, and everything will go on 
quietly as before.” 

Panna Seninska thought that it would, indeed, be too 
quiet while the three would remain in Belchonchki, but she 
did not utter her thought aloud. 

“I’ll go and see about supper,” she said. 

“Go, little housewife, go,” replied Pan Pongowski. “You 
afford the house both joy and profit !” 

And he added: 

“Order to serve on the silver plate. We will show this 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 109 

Ciprianowicz that Armenian nobles are not the only wealthy 
people.” 

Panna Seninska ran into the servants’ room ; hut, as she 
wanted to attend to a more important matter before supper, 
she called over a young servant and said to him : 

“ Listen, Voitushek! Eun to Virombki and tell Pan 
Tachewski that the young lady sends her heartiest compli- 
ments and this cap. Here’s a grosh (a coin), and repeat 
what you are to tell him.” 

“The young lady sends her compliments and the cap.” 

“Hot simply compliments, but heartiest compliments. 
Do you understand?” 

“I understand.” 

“Well, then, run. And take your fur coat, for it’s get- 
ting colder again, and let the dogs follow you. ‘Heartiest 
compliments/ remember, and come back right away, if Pan 
Tachewski does not give you a written answer.” 

Having done this, she went to the kitchen to order sup- 
per, for which the host and the guests were waiting. Then 
she dressed herself, adjusted her hair and came out into 
the dining-room. 

Old Ciprianowicz met her tenderly, because her youth- 
fulness and beauty had touched his heart already in Yed- 
lina. And, as he felt quite at ease on his son’s account, 
he spoke to her at supper merrily, and even jested in order 
to disperse the sorrow which he saw on her brow, and which 
he ascribed to what had happened during that day. 

But the supper ended rather unpropitiously for her, for 
right after the second course had been served Yoitushek 
appeared at the threshold of the dining-room and, warm- 
ing his frozen fingers with his breath, yelled : 

“The cap, lady, I left there, but Pan Tachewski isn’t in 
Virombki any more, because he went away with priest 
Voinowski.” 


110 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


Pan Pongowski, hearing this, was surprised; he knitted 
his brows and, fixing his iron eyes on the young servant, 
asked : 

“What’s that? Which cap? Who sent you to Vi- 
rombki ?” 

“The young lady,” replied the youth, frightened. 

And, seeing all eyes turned to her, she became terribly 
confused. But this lasted only for a brief while; her cun- 
ning feminine mind immediately came to her aid. 

“Pan Tachewski brought here the wounded,” she said; 
“but as auntie and I did not receive him well, he became 
angry and went home without his cap, and I sent it away 
to him.” 

“Yes, it is true that we did not receive him well,” re- 
marked Pani Yinicka. 

Pan Pongowski heaved a sigh of relief and his face grew 
less stem. 

“You have done well,” he said. “And as for the cap, I 
would have sent it back to him, too, because in all prob- 
ability he has no other one.” 

But the honorable and judicious Pan Ciprianowicz took 
Tachewski’s part. 

“My son,” he said, “does not bear him any grudge. They 
themselves have brought about this duel, and, after all, he 
took them to his house, dressed their wounds and treated 
them properly. The Bukoyemskis say the same thing, and 
they add that he’s such a master of the sword that if he 
only wished it he could have cut them differently. Yes ! 
They wanted to teach him a lesson, and, instead, they found 
a teacher. If it is true that His Highness the King is 
going against the Turks, then such a man as Tachewski 
would be useful to him.” 

Pan Pongowski was not too glad to hear these words, and 
he said, at length : 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


in 


“Voinowski, the priest, taught him those tricks.” 

“I saw Father Voinowski only once, at a festival mass,” 
said Pan Ciprianowicz, “hut I heard a great deal about him 
when I was in the army. At the mass other priests laughed 
at him, saying that his house was like the ark, and that 
he, like Noah, cared for all kinds of living creatures. I 
know this, however : his sword was great, and his spiritual 
virtue is now still greater. If Pan Tachewski has learned all 
this from him, I should very much like that my son, when 
he recovers, should seek no other friendship.” 

“There is a rumor that the Diet will soon issue a call 
for volunteers,” said Pan Gedeon, wishing to change the 
topic of conversation. 

“Yes; now they are busying themselves with that over 
there,” put in Pan Grotus. 

And the conversation turned to the war. But after sup- 
per Panna Seninska, choosing the right moment, came over 
to Ciprianowicz and, raising her blue eyes to him, said : 

“You are very kind, very kind !” 

“What makes you say that?” asked Ciprianowicz. 

“You have taken Yatzek’s part.” 

“Whose part?” 

“Pan Tachewski’s. His name is Yatzek.” 

“So! But you yourself have censured him severely. 
Why did you do that ?” 

“My guardian censured him still more severely. But I 
confess to you we have acted unjustly, and I think that we 
ought to make some reparation to him.” 

“He would undoubtedly be delighted to receive any con- 
solation from you.” 

The girl shook her golden head in sign of disagreement. 

“Oh, no,” she replied, with a sad smile; “he is now angry 
at me forever.” 

Ciprianowicz glanced at her with a kind, fatherly look. 


112 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“But who, 0 charming little flower — who could be angry 
with you forever ?” 

“Oh, Pan Yatzek could ! But, as for reparation, the best 
thing would be for you to tell him that you bear him no 
ill-will, and you are convinced of his innocence. Then my 
guardian would be forced to do him some justice, and that 
should be done.” 

“I see that you were not particularly harsh toward him, 
since you plead for him so heartily.” 

“That is because I feel reproaches of conscience, because 
I wish to offend nobody, because he is all alone in the wide 
world, and because he is very, very poor !” 

“Then let me tell you what I have decided to do. Your 
guardian, as a kind host, has declared that he will not let 
me go from here until my son will have recovered com- 
pletely, although Stanislav and the Bukoyemskis could be 
taken home even to-morrow. But before we leave I shall 
surely go to see Pan Tachewski and Father Voinowski — not 
merely out of kindness, but out of conviction that it is my 
duty to do this. I do not say that I am bad, but I think 
that if there is one who is really good, it is you. Don’t 
contradict me !” 

Yet she did contradict him. She felt that it was not 
merely a question of justice toward Yatzek; it was also a 
question of other matters of which Pan Ciprianowicz, not 
initiated in her maiden calculations, could know nothing. 
Nevertheless, her heart filled with gratitude toward him, 
and on bidding him ‘good-night’ she kissed his hand, which 
made Pongowski very angry. 

“They are nobles only of the third generation; before 
that they were traders,” he said. “Remember your noble 
descent !” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


113 


CHAPTER VII. 

Two days later Yatzek went with his ten ducats to 
Radom to dress himself properly for the journey. Father 
Yoinowski remained at home thinking of how to get money 
enough for the equipment of a warrior, for a wagon, for 
horses and a man-servant — all of which an officer must 
have, if he cares for respect and does not wish people to look 
down on him. 

Thus one day Father Yoinowski sat at his small table, 
wrinkled his brows till his white hair fell over his forehead, 
and began then to reckon how much would be needed. His 
“animalia” — that is, the dog Filus, the tame fox and a bad- 
ger — were rolling balls near his feet ; but he gave them no 
attention whatever, so tremendously was he occupied and 
troubled, for the “ reckoning” failed every moment. It 
failed not merely in details, but even in the main principles. 

The old man rubbed his forehead more and more vio- 
lently, and at last he said to himself aloud : 

“He took ten ducats with him. Yery well. Of that, be- 
yond doubt, he will have nothing left. Let us count far- 
ther: From Kondrat, the brewer, five as a loan; from Slo- 
ninka, three. That makes eight. From Duda, six Prussian 
thalers and a saddle-horse, to be paid for in barley, if there 
will be a harvest. Total, eight golden ducats, six thalers, 
and twenty ducats of mine — too little ! Even if I should 
give him the Wallachian as an attendant, that would be, 
counting his own mount, two horses ; and for a wagon two 


114 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


more are needed, and for Yatzek at least two more. It is 
impossible to go with fewer, for if one horse should die he 
must have another. And a uniform for his man, and sup- 
plies for the wagon, kettles and cover and camp-chest. Tfu ! 
He could only join the dragoons with such money.” 

Then he turned to the animals, which were now still 
noisier. 

“Be quiet, you rascals, or I’ll sell your hides to a Jew !” 

And again he went on talking to himself : 

“Yatzek is right — he will have to sell Virombki. Still, 
if he does, he will have nothing to answer when any one 
asks him where he comes from. ‘Whence?’ ‘From Wind.’ 
‘Which Wind ?’ ‘From the Field.’ Immediately every one 
will slight such a person. It would be better to mortgage 
the place, if a man could be found to give money. Pan 
Pongowski would be the most suitable person, but Yatzek 
would not hear of Pan Pongowski, and I myself would not 
talk with him on that subject. My God ! People are mis- 
taken when they say ‘poor as a church-mouse’ ! A man is 
often much poorer. A church-mouse has St. Stephen; he 
lives in comfort and has his wax at all seasons. 0 Lord 
Jesus, who multiplied loaves and fishes, multiply these few 
ruddy ducats and these few thalers; for to Thee, 0 Lord, 
nothing will be diminished, and Thou wilt help the last 
of the Tachewskis.” 

Then it occurred to him that the Prussian thalers, since 
they came from a Lutheran country, could rouse only ab- 
horrence in heaven ; as to the ducats, he hesitated whether 
to put them under Christ’s feet for the night — would he 
find them there multiplied in the morning? He did not 
feel worthy of a miracle, and he struck himself a number 
of times on the breast in repentance for this insolent idea. 
He could not dwell on this longer, however, for some one 
had come to the front of his house. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


115 


Soon the door opened and a tall, gray-haired man en- 
tered. He had black eyes and a wise, kindly countenance. 
The man bowed on the threshold. 

“I am Ciprianowicz of Yedlina,” said he. 

“Yes; I saw you in Pshitik, at your festival, but only 
at a distance, for the throng there was great,” said the 
priest, approaching his guest. “ I greet you on my humble 
threshold with gladness.” 

“I have come hither with gladness,” answered Pan Cip- 
rianowicz. “It is an important and pleasant duty to salute 
a knight so renowned and a priest who is so saintly.” 

Then he kissed the old man on the shoulder and the 
hand, though the priest warded off these acts, saying : 

“Ho, what saintliness! These beasts here may have be- 
fore God greater merit than I have.” But Pan Cipriano- 
wicz spoke so sincerely and with such simplicity that he 
won the priest immediately. They began at once, therefore, 
to speak pleasant words which were heartfelt. 

“I know your son,” said the priest; “he is a cavalier of 
worth and noble manner. In comparison, those Bukoyem- 
skis seem simply serving-men. I will say to you that Yat- 
zek Tachewski has conceived such a love for Pan Stanislav 
that he is forever praising him.” 

“And my Stashko treats him in like manner. It hap- 
pens frequently that men fight and later on love each other. 
None of us feel offense toward Pan Tachewski; nay, we 
should like to conclude with him real friendship. I have 
just been at his house in Yirombki, expecting to find him. 
I wished to invite to Yedlina you, my benefactor, and Pan 
Tachewski.” 

“Yatzek is in Radom, but he will return, and would 
doubtless be glad to serve you. But have you seen how they 
treated him at Belchonchki ?” 

“They have seen that themselves,” said Pan Cipriano- 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


116 

wiez, “and are sorry — not Pan Pongowski, however, but 
the women. ” 

“There are few men so stubborn as Pan Pongowski, and 
he incurs a serious account before the Lord sometimes for 
this reason. As for the women, God be with them. Let 
them go ; what is the use of hiding the fact that one of them 
caused the duel?” 

“I divined that before my son told me. But the cause 
is innocent.” 

“They are all innocent. Do you know what Ecclesiastes 
says of women?” 

Pan Ciprianowicz did not know; so the priest took down 
the Bible and read an extract from Ecclesiastes. 

“What do you think of that?” asked he. 

“There are women even of that kind.” 

“ Yatzek is going to the war for no other cause, and I am 
far from dissuading him; on the contrary, I advise him 
to go.” 

“Do you? Is he going soon? The war will come only 
next summer.” 

“Do you know that to a certainty?” 

“I do, for I inquired, and I inquired because I cannot 
keep my own son from it.” 

“No, because he is a noble. Yatzek is going immediately, 
for, to tell the truth, it is painful for him to remain here.” 

“I understand, I understand everything. Haste is the 
best cure in such a case.” 

“He will stay only as long as may be needed to mortgage 
Virombki or sell it. It is only a small strip of land. I ad- 
vise Yatzek not to sell, but to mortgage. Though he may 
never come back, he can sign himself always as from it; 
and that is more decent for a man of his name and his 
origin.” 

“Must he sell or mortgage in every case?” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


117 

“He must. The man is poor, quite poor. You know 
how much it costs to go to a war, and he cannot serve in a 
common dragoon regiment.” 

Pan Ciprianowicz thought for a while, and said : 

“My benefactor, perhaps I would take a mortgage on 
Virombki.” 

Father Yoinowski blushed as does a maiden when a 
young man confesses on a sudden that for which she is 
yearning beyond all things ; but the blush flew over his face 
as swiftly as summer lightning through the sky of even- 
ing ; then he looked at Pan Ciprianowicz and asked : 

“Why do you take it?” 

Pan Ciprianowicz answered with all the sincerity of an 
honest spirit : 

“I want it since I wish, without loss to myself, to render 
an honorable young man a service, for which I shall gain 
his gratitude. And, Father benefactor, I have still an- 
other idea. I will send my one son to that regiment in 
which Pan Yatzek is to serve, and I think that my Stashko 
will find in him a good friend and comrade. You know 
how important a comrade is, and what a true friend at one’s 
side means in camp, where a quarrel comes easily, and in 
war, where death comes still more easily. God has not, in 
my case, been sparing of fortune, and He has given me only 
one son. Pan Yatzek is brave, sober, a master at the sabre 
— as has been shown — and he is virtuous, for you have 
reared him. Let him and my son be like Orestes and 
Py lades — that is my reckoning.” 

Father Yoinowski opened his arms to him widely. 

“God Himself sent you! For Yatzek I answer as I do 
for myself. He is a golden fellow, and his heart is as 
grateful as wheat land. God sent you ! My dear boy can 
now show himself as befits the Tachewski escutcheon ; and, 
most important of all, he can, after seeing the wide world, 


118 the field of glory. 

forget altogether that girl for whom he has thrown away 
so many years and suffered such anguish.” 

“Has he loved her, then, from of old?” 

“Well, to tell the truth, he has loved her since childhood. 
Even now he says nothing; he sets his teeth, but he squirms 
like an eel beneath a knife-edge. Let him go at the earliest, 
for nothing could or can come from this love of his.” 

A moment of silence followed; then the old man con- 
tinued : 

“But we must speak of these matters more accurately. 
How much can you lend on Virombki ? It is a poor piece 
of land.” 

“Even one hundred ducats.” 

“Fear God, your grace !” 

“But why? If Pan Yatzek ever pays me, it will be all 
the same how much I lend him. If he does not pay, I shall 
get my own, also ; for, though the land about here is poor, 
that new soil must be good beyond the forest. To-day 
I will take my son and the Bukoyemskis to Yedlina, and 
you will do us the favor to come as soon as Pan Yatzek 
returns to you from Radom. The money will be ready.” 

“Your grace came from heaven with your golden heart 
and your money,” said Father Yoinowski. 

Then he commanded to bring mead, which he poured 
out himself, and they drank with much pleasure, as men 
do who have joy at their heart-strings. With the third 
glass the priest became serious. 

“For the assistance, for the good word, for the honesty, 
let me pay,” said he, “even with good advice.” 

“I am listening.” 

“Do not settle your son in Virombki. The young lady 
is beautiful beyond every description. She may also be 
honorable ; I say naught against that. But she is a Senin- 
ska. Not she alone, but Pan Pongowski is so proud of this 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


119 


that if any man, no matter who, were to ask for her, even 
Yakobus, our King’s son, he would not seem too high to 
Pan Pongowski. Guard your son ; do not let him break his 
young heart on that pride, or wound himself mortally like 
Yatzek. Out of pure and well-wishing friendship do I say 
this, desiring to pay for your kindness with kindness.” 

Pan Ciprianowicz drew his palm across his forehead as 
he answered: 

“They dropped down on us at Yedlina as from the 
clouds because of what happened on the journey. I went 
once to Pan Pongowski’s on a neighborly visit, but he did 
not return it. Noting his pride and its origin, I have not 
sought his acquaintance or friendship. What has come 
came of itself. I will not settle my son in Virombki, nor 
let him be foolish at Pan Pongowski’s mansion. We are 
not such an ancient nobility as the Seninskas, nor perhaps 
as Pan Pongowski; but our nobility grew out of war, out 
of that which gives pain, as Charnietski described it. We 
shall be able to preserve our own dignity; my son is not 
less keen on that point than I am. It is hard for a young 
man to guard against Cupid, but I will tell you, my bene- 
factor, what Stashko told me when recently at Pan Pon- 
gowski’s. I inquired about Panna Seninska. T would 
rather/ said he, ‘not pluck an apple than spring too high 
after it, for if I should not reach the fruit I would feel 
disgraced.” 

“Ah! he has a good thought in his head!” exclaimed 
Father Yoinowski. 

“He has been thus from his boyhood,” added Pan Cipri- 
anowicz, with a certain proud feeling. “He told me, also, 
that when he had learned what the girl had been to Ta- 
chewski, and what he had passed through because of her, 
he would not cross the road of so worthy a cavalier. No, 
my benefactor, I do not take a mortgage on Virombki to 


120 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


have my son near Pan Pongowski’s. May God guard my 
Stanislav and preserve him from evil.” 

“Amen ! I believe you as if an angel were speaking. 
And now let some third man take the girl, even one of the 
Bukoyemskis, who boast of such kinfolk.” 

Pan Ciprianowicz smiled, drank up his mead, took fare- 
well and departed. 

Father Voinowski went to the church to thank God for 
that unexpected assistance, and then he waited for Yatzek 
impatiently. 

When at last Yatzek came the old man ran out to the 
yard and seized him by the shoulders. 

“Yatzek,” exclaimed he, “you can give ten ducats for a 
crupper. You have one hundred ducats, as it were, on the 
table, and Virombki remains to you.” 

Tachewski fixed on Father Voinowski eyes that were 
sunken from sleeplessness and suffering, and asked, with 
astonishment : 

“What has happened?” 

Indeed, a really good thing had happened, since it came 
from the heart of an honest man. 

Father Voinowski noted with the greatest consolation 
that Yatzek, in spite of his terrible suffering and all his 
heart-tortures, received, as it were, a new spirit on learning 
of the agreement with Pan Ciprianowicz. For some days 
he spoke and thought only of horses; there was no place 
for aught else in him. 

“There is your medicine, your balsam; here are your 
remedies,” repeated the priest to himself; “for if a man 
entrapped by a woman, and never so unhappy, were going 
to the army he would have to be careful not to buy a sickly 
horse; he would have to choose swords, and fit on his 
armor, try his lance once and a second time, and, turning 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. ^l 1 

from the woman to more fitting objects, find relief for his 
heart in them.” 

And he remembered how, when young, he himself had 
sought in war either death or forgetfulness. But since 
war had not begun yet, death was still distant from Yatzek 
in every case; meantime he was filled with his journey and 
with questions bound up in it. 

There was plenty to do. Pan Ciprianowicz and his son 
came again to the priest, with whom Yatzek was living. 
Then all went to the city together to draw up the mort- 
gage. 

There, also, they found a part of Yatzek’s outfit; the re- 
mainder the experienced and clear-headed priest advised 
to search out in Warsaw or Cracow. This beginning of 
work took up some days, during which young Stanislav, 
whose slight wound was almost healed, gave earnest assist- 
ance to Yatzek, with whom he contracted a more and more 
intimate friendship. The old men were pleased at this, for 
both held it extremely important. The honest Pan Cipri- 
anowicz even began to be sorry that Yatzek was going so 
promptly, and to persuade the priest not to hasten his 
departure. 

“I understand,” said he, “I understand well, my bene- 
factor, why you wish to send him away at the earliest ; but, 
in truth, I must tell you that I think no ill of that Panna 
Anusya. It is true that immediately after the duel she 
did not receive Pan Yatzek very nicely, but remember that 
she and Pani Yinicka were snatched from the jaws of the 
wolves by my son and the Bukoyemskis. What wonder, 
then, that at the sight of the blood and the wounds of those 
gentlemen she was seized with an anger, which Pan Pon- 
gowski roused in her purposely, as I know. Pan Pongow- 
ski is a stubborn man, truly ; but when I was there the poor 
girl came to me perfectly penitent. T see/ said she, That 


122 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


we did not act justly, and that some reparation is due to 
Pan Yatzek.’ Her eyes became moist immediately, and 
pity seized me, because that face of hers is comely beyond 
measure. Besides, she has an honest soul and despises 
injustice.” 

“For God’s sake, don’t say a word to Yatzek about this, 
for his heart would rush up to his throat again, and barely 
has he begun to breathe now in freedom. He ran away 
from Pan Pongowski’s bareheaded ; he swore that he would 
never go back to that mansion, and God guard him from 
doing so. Women, you see, Pan Ciprianowicz, are like 
will-o’-the-wisps which move at night over the swamp lands 
at Yedlina. If you chase one it flees; if you flee it pur- 
sues you. That is the way of it !” 

“That is a wise remark, which I must repeat to Stanis- 
lav,” said Pan Ciprianowicz. 

“Let Yatzek go at the earliest. I have written letters 
already to various acquaintances, and to dignitaries whom 
I knew before they were dignitaries, and to warriors the 
most famous. In those letters your son, too, is recom- 
mended as a worthy cavalier; and when his turn comes to 
go he shall have letters, also, although he may not need 
them, since Yatzek will prepare the way for him. Let the 
two serve together.” 

“I thank you from the depth of my soul. Yes! Let 
them serve together, and may their friendship last till their 
lives end. You have mentioned the regiment of Alex- 
ander, the King’s son, which is under Sbierzhkhowski. That 
is a splendid regiment — perhaps the first among the hus- 
sars — so I should like Stashko to join it. But he said to 
me: ‘The light-horse for six days in the week, and the 
hussars, as it were, only on Sunday !’ ” 

“That is true,” answered the priest. “Hussars are not 
gent on scouting expeditions, and it is rare, also, that they 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


123 


go skirmishing, as it is not fitting that such men should 
meet all kinds of faces ; but when their turn comes they so 
press on and trample that others do not shed so much blood 
in six days as they do on their Sunday. But, then, war, 
not the warrior, commands; hence, sometimes it happens 
that hussars perform every-day labor.” 

“ You, my benefactor, know that better than any man.” 

Father Voinowski closed his eyes for a moment, as if 
wishing to recall the past more in detail; then he raised 
them, looked at the mead, swallowed one mouthful, then a 
second, and said: 

“It happened toward the end of the Swedish war, when 
we went to punish that traitor, the Elector, for his treaties 
with Karl. Pan Lubomirski, the marshal, took fire and 
sword to Berlin. I was then in his own regiment, in which 
Victor was lieutenant. The Brandenburger tried to check 
us, now with infantry, now general militia, in which were 
German nobles ; and I tell you that at last, on our side, the 
arms of the hussars and the Cossacks of the household 
seemed almost as if moving on hinges.” 

“Was it such difficult work then?” 

“It was not difficult, for at the mere sight of us the mus- 
kets and the spears trembled in the hands of those poor 
fellows as tree branches tremble when the wind blows 
around them; but there was work daily from morning till 
twilight. Whether a man thrusts his spear into a breast or 
a back, it is labor. Ah ! but that was a lovely campaign ; 
for, as people said, it was active, and in my life I have 
never seen so many men’s backs and so many horse rumps 
as in that time. Even Luther was weeping in hell, for we 
ravaged one-half of Brandenburg thoroughly.” 

“It is good that treason came to its merited punishment.” 

“Of course it is good. The Elector appeared then and 
begged Lubomirski for peace, I did not see him, but later 


124 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


on soldiers told me that the marshal walked along the 
square with his hands on his hips, while the Elector tripped 
after him like a whip-lash. The Elector bowed so that he 
almost touched the ground with his wig, and seized the 
knees of the marshal. Nay ! they even said that he kissed 
him wherever it happened ; but I give no great faith to that 
statement, though the marshal, who had a haughty heart, 
loved to bend down the enemy ; but he was a polite man in 
every case, and would not permit things of that kind. 

“ God grant that it may happen with the Turks this time 
as it did then with the Elector.” 

“My experience, though not lofty, is long, and I will 
say to you sincerely that it will go, I think, as well or still 
better. The marshal was a warrior of experience, and espe- 
cially a lucky one; but, still, we could not compare Lubo- 
mirski with His Grace the King reigning actually.” 

Then they mentioned all the victories of Sobieski and 
the battles in which they themselves had taken part. And 
so they drank to the health of the King and rejoiced, know- 
ing that with him as a leader the young men would see real 
war ; not only that, but, since the war was to be against the 
ancient enemy of the cross, they would win immense glory. 

In truth, no one knew anything yet about the war. It 
was not known whether the Turkish power would turn first 
on the republic or the empire. The question of a treaty 
with Austria was to be raised at the Diet. But at the meet- 
ings of nobles men spoke of war only. Statesmen who had 
been in Warsaw, and at the court, foretold it with convic- 
tion; and, besides, the whole people had been seized by a 
feeling that war must come — a foreboding almost stronger 
than certainty, and based on the former deeds of the King, 
also on the desire and destiny of the people. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


125 


CHAPTER VIII. 

On the road from Radom priest Voinowski invited the 
old Ciprianowiez and his son to his house, and they were 
all to go together with Yatzek to Yedlina. In the mean- 
time three of the Bukoyemskis appeared there unexpectedly. 
Marek was still too sick to be about, but Matvey, Lukash and 
Yan came to offer their compliments to the old man and 
to thank him for his care of them when they were sick. 
True, Yan was short of a finger on one hand, and the 
older brothers had big scars — one had it on his forehead, 
the other on the cheek — but they had by this time com- 
pletely recovered and were as strong as bulls. 

Two days before they had been hunting in the forest; 
they had surrounded a sleeping she-bear, speared her, and 
brought the young bear as a gift to Father Yoinowski, 
whose love for beasts of the forest was well known every- 
where. 

The old man liked the “plain-hearted boys.” He was 
glad they came, and that they brought him the young bear; 
and he almost shed tears from laughter when the cub seized 
one of the glasses filled with mead and began to roar in 
order to save his booty by inspiring terror. Then, seeing 
that no one wanted to take the mead away from him, the 
bear got up on his hind legs and drank the mead like a 
man, which increased the merriment. 

“Well, I shall not make him my butler, or keeper of my 
bee-hives!” said the priest, amused intensely. 


126 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“Yes!” exclaimed Stanislav Ciprianowiez, laughing. 
“He hasn’t been long at the Bukoyemskis’ school, but he 
learned from them more in a single day than he could have 
learned in a lifetime in the forest.” 

“That’s not true!” replied Lukash. “This beast has 
natural wit. He knows what is good and what is bad. No 
sooner had we taken him out of the forest than he fell to 
drinking vodka as if he had been in the habit of drinking 
it every morning; and then he struck a dog on the snout, 
as though saying, ‘There, take this ; don’t be sniffing !’ and 
he went off to sleep.” 

“Thanks to you, I’ll have real amusement,” said the 
priest. “Still, I’ll not make him my butler. Although 
he knows a grea; deal about drinks, he would attend to 
them too diligently.” 

“Bears can do more than that,” remarked Yan. “Father 
Glominski, of Pshitik, has a bear that plays the organ. 
But some people are chagrined, for at times he begins to 
roar, especially when some one strikes him with a stick.” 

“There should be no cause for chagrin here,” said the 
priest; “birds build nests in churches and sing to the glory 
of God, and no one is chagrined by that. Every beast serves 
God, and the Saviour was even bom in a manger.” 

“Besides, they say,” interposed Matvey, “the Lord Jesus 
turned a miller into a bear; so it may be the human soul 
remained in the bear.” 

“Then you have killed the miller’s wife, and must an- 
swer,” said the old Ciprianowiez. “His Highness the King 
guards his bears very jealously, and he does not keep the 
foresters to kill the bears.” 

At these words the three brothers became embarrassed, 
and it took some time for Matvey to say something in self- 
defense. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


127 

“Very well; but are we not nobles? The Bukoyemskis 
are as good as the Sobieskis.” 

But Lukash was struck by a happier thought, and his 
face began to beam. 

“We gave our word as knights not to shoot bears,” he 
said. “Well, we don’t shoot them — we spear them.” 

“His Highness the King is not thinking of bears at 
present,” remarked Yan; “and, besides, nobody will report 
to him about it. Let any forester dare say a word — eh ! 
Still, it is a pity that we boasted before Pan Pongowski and 
Pan Grotus. Pan Grotus is going to Warsaw, and, as he 
sees the King frequently, he may mention this to him.” 

“When did you see Pan Pongowski?” asked the priest. 

“Yesterday. He was accompanying Pan Grotus. Do 
you know, venerable Father, the inn called Mozdovnya? 
They stopped there to feed their horses, and they found us 
there. Then Pan Pongowski began to ask us many ques- 
tions, and he asked also about Yatzek. 

“About me?” inquired Tachewski. 

“Yes. ‘Is it true/ he asked, ‘that Tachewski is going to 
the war ?’ ‘It is true/ we said. ‘When ?’ ‘Soon, we think.’ 
Then Pan Pongowski said, ‘That’s good, but, of course, he 
will join the infantry?’ We all burst out laughing, and 
Matvey replied, ‘Make no such supposition, for Yatzek is 
now our friend, and we should have to side with him.’ Pan 
Pongowski realized what kind of men we were, and he said, 
‘I say this not that I bear him ill-will, but because I know 
that Yirombki is not a great estate in Poland .’ 99 

“An estate or no estate, it’s enough for him!” exclaimed 
the priest. “Pan Pongowski need not break his head 
about it.” 

“But it was evident that Pan Pongowski thought other- 
wise, and he did bother his head about Yatzek’s fate, for 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


128 

an hour later the servant, who brought in a new bottle of 
mead, brought also a sealed letter. 

“ There is a messenger from Belchonchki,” he said. 

Father Voinowski took the letter, broke open the seal, 
struck the paper with the back of his hand, walked over to 
the window and began to read. Yatzek turned pale from 
emotion; he looked upon this letter as a miracle-working 
ikon , because he felt that there was something about him 
in the letter. His thoughts, like scared swallows, flew 
through his head. “What if the old man is repenting?” 
he thought. “What if he is excusing himself? It must be 
so ; it cannot be otherwise. Pongowski had no right to be 
more angry at me for what has happened than at those who* 
suffered in consequence of the duel. Now his conscience 
has awakened; he realizes the injustice of his conduct; he 
understands now how painfully he insulted an innocent 
man, and he desires to smooth over the injustice.” 

Yatzek’s heart began to beat faster. “Oh, I must go!” 
he said to himself. “ Happiness is not for me, and though 
I shall forgive, I cannot forget. I shall go. Before leav- 
ing I should like to see once more that cruel yet beloved 
Anusya; to have a good look at her once more; to hear her 
voice once more. Refuse not my prayer, 0 merciful God !” 

And his thoughts rushed more swiftly than swallows; 
but before they had passed something unexpected hap- 
pened. Father Voinowski crushed the letter in his hand, 
and he felt at his left side, as if seeking his sword. The 
blood rushed to his face, his neck swelled and his eyes 
flashed lightnings. He was simply so terrible that the old 
Ciprianowicz and his son and the Bukoyemskis looked at 
him with astonishment, for he looked as if he had suddenly 
been turned into a different man. 

Deep silence reigned in the room. 

In the meantime the priest bent toward the window, as 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


129 

if looking down at some object; then he turned away, cast 
a glance at the walls of the room, then at the guests; but 
he apparently controlled himself, for his face regained its 
usual color and the fire in his eyes grew dull. 

“ Gentlemen,” he said, “that man is not only excitable, 
but altogether wicked. To say in excitement something 
which is not true may be excused — that may happen to 
anybody ; but to continue to abuse maliciously and trample 
upon the offended one is not the deed of a noble or of a 
Christian.” 

Saying this, he bent down, picked up the crumpled letter 
and turned to Tachewski. 

“ Yatzek, if there is still some sore spot left in your 
heart, cut it out with this knife. Read, poor fellow, read 
aloud, for you have nothing to be ashamed of ; it is he who 
wrote the letter that should feel ashamed. Let everybody 
know what kind of man Pan Pongowski is.” 

With trembling hands Yatzek seized the letter, opened 
it and read : 

“Most Esteemed Priest, Benefactor, etc., etc. : 

“Having learned that Tachewski of Yirombki, who used 
to frequent my house, is at present about to join the army, 
I, bearing in mind the bread with which I nourished him 
in his poverty, and also the services which he rendered to 
me at my orders from time to time, am sending to him a 
horse, and a ducat to shoe the horse, with the warning not 
to waste the money on some other unnecessary matter. 

“I have the honor to remain, etc., etc.” 

! 

Yatzek grew so pale while reading the letter that those 
present had fears for him ; especially was the priest afraid 
lest this pallor should be the herald of an outburst of mad- 
ness. He knew well how terrible the young man was in his 


130 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


anger, though usually so mild, and he began to calm him 
at once. 

“Pongowski is an old man, and he has lost one arm,” 
said the priest, quickly. “You cannot challenge him.” 

But Tachewski did not fly into a passion, for at the first 
moment an immeasurable and painful amazement over- 
came all other feelings within him. 

“I cannot challenge him,” he repeated, like an echo; 
“hut why does he trample on me ?” 

The old Ciprianowicz rose, took both Yatzek’s hands, 
shook them firmly, kissed him on the forehead, and added : 

“Pan Pongowski has injured himself, not you, and if 
you will disdain revenge, everybody will admire your mag- 
nanimity, which is worthy of the blood flowing in your 
veins.” 

“These are words of wisdom!” cried the priest, “and 
you must try to prove worthy of them.” 

Then Stanislav Ciprianowicz embraced Yatzek. 

“Believe me,” he said, “I love you now all the more.” 

But this turn of affairs did not at all appeal to the Bu- 
koyemskis, who were gnashing their teeth all this time. 
Following Stanislav’s example, they, too, embraced Yatzek. 

“Be it so,” said Lukash, at length. “I should know what 
I had to do if I were in Yatzek’s place.” 

“What would you do?” asked the other brothers, with 
curiosity. 

“I don’t know myself just now what I would do, but I 
would have thought of something and would not forgive 
him.” 

“If you don’t know, don’t speak!” 

“Why, do you know?” 

“Be quiet !” said the priest. “I shall not leave this letter 
unanswered. Still, to disdain revenge is a truly Christian 
act.” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 131 

“Of course ! Yet you felt for your sword at your side at 
the first impulse.” 

“That is because I carried a sword for a long time. Mea 
culpa! But there is another circumstance — Pan Pongow- 
ski is an old man with only one arm. This is not to be set- 
tled with steel. And I tell you, that is why I am disgusted 
with this rancorous old man, who makes use of his im- 
punity in so disgraceful a manner.” 

“Our neighborhood will now be too narrow for him,” 
said Yan Bukoyemski. “I wager my head that not a single 
decent soul will cross the threshold of his house.” 

“But it is necessary to write an answer,” said the priest, 
“and at once.” 

But who was to answer — Yatzek, for whom the letter 
was intended, or the priest, to whom it was directed? It 
was decided that the priest should write the letter. Ta- 
chewski himself settled the question. 

“To me that entire household and all the people in it are 
as dead,” he said. “And it is their luck that I say this in 
the depth of my heart.” 

“That’s it! The bridges are burnt!” added the priest, 
seeking pen and paper. 

To this Yan Bukoyemski replied : 

“It is well that the bridges are burnt, but it would be bet- 
ter if Belchonchki had gone up in smoke ! In the Ukraine 
it was this way : if a newcomer came and settled among us, 
and if he could not get along with his neighbors, he was cut 
up into pieces and his property went up in smoke.” 

Nobody paid any attention to these words — none save 
old Ciprianowicz, who waved his hand impatiently, and 
replied : 

“You came to these regions from the Ukraine, I came 
from the outskirts of Lwowo, and Pongowski from Pomo- 
zye; thus, according to you, Pan Tachewski might count us 


132 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


all as intruding newcomers. But you must know that the re- 
public is an immense house occupied hy a family of nobles, 
and a noble is at home in every nook and comer.” 

Silence ensued. Only the squeaking of a pen and words 
in an undertone, which, dictated to himself, were heard 
from behind the screen. 

Tachewski buried his face in his hands and sat for sev- 
eral minutes motionless; then he straightened himself, 
looked around at those present, and said : 

“There is something I cannot understand.” 

“Neither do we understand,” replied Lukash Bukoyem- 
ski; “but if you will drink some more mead, we will also 
drink.” 

Yatzek mechanically poured out mead into the glasses, 
and, following the course of his own thoughts, went on : 

“Of course, Pan Pongowski had a right to feel offended 
because I brought on this duel while we were in his house — 
although such things will happen everywhere. But he 
knows that it was not I that challenged; he knows that he 
has unjustly insulted me under my own roof; he knows 
that you and I are on peaceful terms now; he knows that 
I will never show myself in his house again. Still he pur- 
sues me ; still he is trying to trample on me ” 

“True; there must be some special animosity in this,” 
said old Ciprianowicz. 

“Are you, too, of the opinion that there must be some- 
thing hidden here?” 

“Where?” asked the priest, coming out from behind the 
screen with a ready letter. 

“In this particular animosity against me.” 

The priest glanced at the shelf, where, among other 
books, was the Holy Bible, and he said : 

“I will tell you what I have told you before — there is a 
woman in the case.” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


133 


And he turned to his guests : 

“Shall I read for you what Ecclesiastes says about 
woman ?” 

But he could not finish, for Yatzek jumped up as if burnt 
by a red-hot iron ; he thrust his fingers into his hair and 
almost shouted with inexpressible grief: 

“Then I understand it still less, for if any one in the 
world — if to any one in the world — if there is any one that 
I — I have given all my soul ” 

He could not say another word, for the pain in his heart 
clutched his throat as in iron clasps, and gathered in his 
eyes in the form of two large, bitter, burning tear-drops 
which rolled down his cheeks. 

The priest understood him well. 

“My Yatzek,” he said, “it is better to burn out the 
wound, even though it should cause terrible pain, than to 
let it fester; that is why I do not spare you. Eh! I was 
also a soldier, in my time; therefore I understand many 
things. I know that regret and remembrance, no matter 
how far a man may travel, drag after him like dogs, and 
howl in the night time, and rob him of his sleep. Well, 
what then ? It is better to kill them at once. At this mo- 
ment you feel that you would give all your blood for the 
sake of that house; therefore it seems so strange and ter- 
rible to you that vengeance should pursue you from that 
direction. And all this appears to you impossible, but it 
is very simple ; for if you have wounded the pride and self- 
respect of a woman. — if they thought that you would squeal 
and you have not squealed — if, when you were beaten, you 
did not crawl at her feet, but, instead, broke your chain 
and ran away — you shall know that you will never be for- 
given, and the hatred of a woman, with which the hatred 
of a man can never compare, will always pursue you. There 
is but one remedy against that : break your feeling, even on 


134 ' 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


your own heart, and cast it away as far as you can, like a 
broken bow — that’s what you should do.” 

And again there was a minute of silence. Old Cipriano- 
wicz shook his head, confirming the priest, and, as a man 
of experience, admired his words of wisdom. 

Yatzek repeated: 

“It is true that I have tugged at my chain and broken it. 
It is not Pongowski that pursues me.” 

“I know what I would do,” suddenly declared Lukash 
Bukoyemski; “I would have written to him myself.” 

“No!” said the priest, impatiently; “not Yatzek will 
write, but I, and it is not becoming to me to listen to your 
advice.” 

Here he turned to Ciprianowicz and to Yatzek. 

“It was a difficult task, for I had to break the horns of his 
malice in a diplomatic manner, and at the same time show 
him that we understand whence the sting came. Listen, 
and if any one of you should malm a practical suggestion 
I shall accept it with pleasure.” 

And the priest began to read : 

“ ‘Noble Pan Pongowski, my dear neighbor and 
brother ’ ” 

Here he struck the letter with his hand and said : 

“You will observe, gentlemen, that I do not write ‘my 
benefactor, but ‘my dear.’ ” 

“That will do for him ! Go ahead !” 

“Well, then listen: ‘It is known to all citizens of our 
republic that only those people know how to observe due 
politeness under all circumstances who have mingled with 
polite people from their very childhood, or who have 
brought such politeness into the world together with their 
noble blood and renowned name. As neither one nor the 
other has come to you, my dear neighbor, as a portion, the 
noble Pan Tachewski, who inherited from his renowned 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


135 


ancestors both noble blood and a noble soul, forgives you 
your rude words, and also sends back your Tude gifts. And 
as you, like some innkeeper, mention the hospitality which 
was extended to the noble Pan Yatzek Tachewski in your 
house, dear neighbor, the above-mentioned Pan Tachewski 
is ready to pay all expenses, adding such gratuity as seems 
proper to his inborn generosity/ ” 

“By God!” old Ciprianowicz interrupted him, “Pon- 
gowski will actually choke with his own blood when he reads 
this.” 

“It was necessary to bring down his pride, and at the 
same time burn all bridges — Yatzek himself wanted that.” 

“Yes, yes !” exclaimed Tachewski, feverishly. 

“Now listen; this I write from myself: T have inclined 
Pan Tachewski to see that, though the bow is yours, the 
poisoned arrow with which you intended to strike the 
worthy young knight is not in your own quiver. Reason, 
like strength, grows fainter as the years go by, and senile 
old age easily yields to suggestions from others, thus de- 
serving more indulgence. Here I end this letter, adding, as 
a priest and a servant of God, that the nearer the end of 
one’s life, the less becoming it is to man to be the servant 
of hatred and haughtiness — that man should rather think 
more of the salvation of his soul, something which I wish 
myself and you. Amen. I remain, etc., etc/ ” 

“All is written as it should be,” said old Ciprianowicz; 
“there’s nothing to be added, nothing to be taken out.” 

“Well,” said the old priest, “do you think he gets what 
he deserves ?” 

“ Oh, as you were reading, certain words burnt me.” 

“And me, too,” added Lukash Bukoyemski. “Really, 
when a man hears such words he feels like having a drink, 
as on a very hot day.” 


136 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“ Yatzek, treat those dear guests of ours, and I will mean- 
while seal the letter and send it off.” 

Saying this, he took the ring from his finger and went 
behind the screen. But before sealing the letter another 
idea must have come to his mind, for he came out and said : 

“Keady. The thing is done. But — isn’t it too harsh? 
He’s an old man — it may cost him his health. Wounds 
dealt by the pen are no less painful than those by the sword 
or the bullet.” 

“ True, true!” said Tachewski, setting his teeth together 
firmly. 

But this outcry of pain settled the matter. Old Ciprian- 
owicz said : 

"Esteemed priest, your reasoning is noble, but Pongow- 
ski had no such scruples. His letter aimed straight at the 
heart, while yours aims only at his pride and malice. I 
think the letter should be sent away.” 

And the letter was sent away. Then all began to hasten 
the preparations for Tachewski’s departure. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY, 


137 


CHAPTER IX. 

Tachewski’s friends, however, did not foresee that the 
priest’s letter would, in a way, be of use to Pan Pongowski 
in his home policy. 

Indeed, he received the letter not without anger. Yat- 
zek, whom he had so far regarded merely as an obstacle, 
became now an object of hatred, although he did not write 
the letter himself. This hatred bloomed in the stubborn 
old heart of Pan Pongowski like a poisonous flower; but 
his cautious mind determined to make use of the priest’s 
letter. 

Pan Pongowski restrained his fierce rage, his face as- 
sumed a look of contemptuous pity, and he went with the 
answer to Panna Seninska. 

“For our kindness we were beaten,” said he. “I did not 
wish this, for I am a man of experience, and I know peo- 
ple; but when you clasped your hands and said that injus- 
tice had been done — that I had exceeded in sternness and 
you had been too severe to him — that he ought not to leave 
us in anger — I yielded. I sent him a horse. I sent him 
assistance in money. I thought he would come and bow 
down, give us thanks, take farewell as became a man who 
had spent so much time under our roof; but see what he 
has sent us in answer !” 

At these words he drew the priest’s letter from his girdle 
and gave it to the Panna Seninska. 

She began to read, and soon her dark brows met in 


138 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


anger; but when she reached the place where the priest 
declared that Pan Pongowski wished to humiliate Yatzek, 
thanks to the suggestions of another, her hands trembled, 
her face turned scarlet, then grew pale and remained pale. 
Though Pan Pongowski saw all this, he feigned not to 
see it. 

“May God forgive them for what they attribute to me,” 
said he, after a moment of silence. “He alone knows 
whether my ancestors are much below the Tachewskis, of 
whose greatness more fables than truths are related. What 
I cannot forgive is this : that they pay you, my poor dear, 
for your kindness of an angel, with such ingratitude.” 

“It was not Pan Yatzek who wrote this, but Father Voi- 
nowski,” said Panna Seninska, seizing, as it were, the last 
plank of salvation, like a drowning person clutching at a 
straw. 

“Do you believe, girl,” inquired he, “that I love you?” 

“I believe,” answered she, bending and kissing his hand. 

He stroked her fair head with great tenderness. 

“Though you believe,” he said, “you do not know that 
you are my whole consolation. Barely do I permit myself 
words such as these, and rarely do I tell that which my 
heart feels, since former suffering is concealed in it. But 
you should understand that I have only you in the world. 
I would increase hourly, not your disappointment, pain and 
trouble, but your joy and happiness. I do not ask what 
began to bud in your heart, but I will say this to you: 
whether that was, as I think, a pure, sisterly feeling, or 
something more, that young man was unworthy. He has 
heaped on us ingratitude in return for our sincere friend- 
ship. My dearest, you would deceive yourself if you were 
io think the priest wrote this letter without Yatzek’s 
knowledge. They wrote it together ; and do you know why 
they replied with such insolence? As I have heard, Ta- 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 13$ 

chewski got money from that Armenian in Yedlina. That 
is what he needs, and now since he has it he cares for 
naught else, and for no one any longer. This is the truth, 
and in your soul you must acknowledge that to think other- 
wise would be willing self-deception.” 

“I see,” answered the girl. 

Pan Pongowski meditated a while. 

“People say,” he declared, finally, “that it is the habit 
of old people to praise past times and lay blame on the 
present. But this is not so. The world is growing worse — 
people are becoming worse. In my day no man would have 
acted as would Taehewski. Do you know the first cause of 
this ? That night in the tree, which exposed this lord cava- 
lier to the ridicule of people. To hurry, as it were, to help 
some one, and then climb a tree, out of terror, may happen ; 
but in such a case it is better not to boast of it, for it is 
ridiculous, ridiculous ! I do not hold up the Bukoyemskis 
or Pan Stanislav as heroes; they are drunkards, swash- 
bucklers — I know them ! Our lives were less in their minds 
than were the wolf-skins. But there is lurking in him such 
envy that he could not forgive them that chance aid which 
they gave us. Out of that rose the duel. May God punish 
me if I had not reason to be angry. They made friends 
after the duel, for it is clear that our cavalier understood 
that he could get money from Pan Ciprianowicz, so he pre- 
ferred to turn his malice against this mansion. Pride, ani- 
mosity, ingratitude and greed — those are the things which 
he has manifested, and nothing more. He has injured me. 
Never mind. God forgive him ! But why should he attack 
you, my dear flower ? A neighbor for long years, who called 
on us daily. A gypsy in such a position would become 
faithful; a swallow grows used to its roof, a stork returns 
to its nest ; but he spat on our house as soon as he felt in 


140 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


his purse a coin of the Armenian’s. No, no ! No man in 
my day would have acted in that style.” 

Panna Seninska listened, her palms clasping her temples, 
and with eyes looking out before her fixedly; so Pan 
Pongowski stopped and looked at her once, and a second 
time. 

“ What is the matter with you ?” asked he. 

“ Nothing; but I am so sad that words have deserted me.” 

And, finding no words, she found tears. Pan Pongowski 
let her cry till she had finished. 

"It is better to let that sadness pass off with tears than 
let it stay in the heart and be petrified. Ah, it is hard! 
Let him go ; let him clink other men’s coin ; let him touch 
the mud with his saddle-cloth ; let him strut as a lord and 
court Warsaw harlots. But we will remain here, my girl. 
That is no great delight, it is true ; but still it is a delight, 
if you remember that no one in this house will deceive you, 
no one here will offend you, no one will break your heart — 
that here you will be always as an eye in the head of each 
person; that your happiness will be the first question al- 
ways, also the last question of my life. Come !” 

He stretched his arms toward her, and she fell on his 
breast with emotion and gratitude, as she would on the 
breast of a father who was comforting her in a moment of 
suffering. 

Pan Pongowski fell to stroking her bright head with the 
one hand that remained to him, and long did they linger 
there in silence. Meanwhile it was growing dark; the 
frosty window-panes glittered in the moonlight, and dogs 
made themselves heard here and there with prolonged 
barking. 

The warmth of the maiden’s body penetrated to the heart 
of Pan Pongowski, which began to beat with more vigor; 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. ^4X 

and, since lie feared to make a declaration too early, he 
would expose himself, then, to temptation. 

“Stand up, child, ” said he. “You will not weep now?” 

“I will not,” answered the girl, kissing his hand. 

“'You see! Ah, this is it ! Remember always that there 
is a place where it will he calm for you and pleasant. Every 
young man is glad to race over the world like a tempest, 
but for me you are the only one. Fix this well in mind. 
More than once, perhaps, have you thought, ‘My guardian 
seems a savage wolf ; he is glad to find some one to shout 
at, and he has no understanding of my young ideas/ But 
do you know of what this guardian has thought and is 
thinking at present? Often of his past happiness, often 
of that pain which, like an arrow, is fixed in his heart — 
that is true ; but besides that only of you and of your future, 
only of this: to secure every good thing for you. Pan 
Grotus and I talked whole hours of this. He laughed be- 
cause, as he said, one thought alone remained with me. My 
one point was to secure to you after my death even a suffi- 
cient quiet morsel.” 

“May God not grant me to wait for that!” cried she, 
bending again to the hand of Pan Pongowski. 

And in her voice there was such sincerity that the stern 
face of the old noble was radiant with genuine joy for the 
moment. 

“Do you love me a little?” 

“Oh, guardian!” 

“May God reward you, child ! My age is not yet so ad- 
vanced, and my body, save for the wounds in my heart and 
my person, would be sufficiently stalwart. But, as men 
say, death is ever sitting at the gate, and knocks at the 
door whenever it pleases. If that should happen, you 
would be alone in the world with Pani Yinicka. Pan 
Grotus is a kind man and wealthy; he would respect my 


142 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


testament and wishes; but as to other relatives of my late 
wife — who knows what they would do ? Her relatives might 
wish to resist and raise lawsuits. There is need to have 
foresight in all things. Pan Grotus gave advice touching 
this case; true, it is effective, but strange, and therefore I 
will not speak to you yet of it. I should like to see His 
Highness the King — to leave you and my will to his 
guardianship ; but the King is occupied now with the Diet 
and the coming war. Pan Grotus says that if there is war 
the troops will move first under the hetmans and His 
Majesty will remain at Cracow. Perhaps then — perhaps 
we shall go together. But, whatever happens, know this, 
my child : all my possessions will be yours, though I should 
have to follow at last the advice of Pan Grotus — even 
though for one hour before death. Yes, so help me God ! 
for I do not cast my words to the wind; I am not such a 
useless, frivolous man as Tachewski is.” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


143 


CHAPTER X. 

Panna Se^inska returned to her room, filled with 
gratitude toward her guardian, who had never before spoken 
to her so sincerely; and at the same time she was disen- 
chanted, saddened and disgusted with everybody — with the 
whole world. At first she could not think calmly. She 
felt that a grievous wrong had been done her, that she was 
mortally abused, and that a painful disappointment had 
come over her. 

For her kind heart, for her compassion, for her yearning, 
for all that she had done to bind the broken knots together, 
her only reward was hate and suspicion. And there was 
no remedy. She could not, of course, write to Yatzek a 
second time, to explain her position and to justify herself. 
A blush of shame and humiliation covered her face at the 
mere thought of this. Besides, she was almost sure that 
Yatzek had gone. And, then, the war was coming on; per- 
haps she would never behold him in life again; perhaps he 
would fall and die with the conviction that a perverse and 
wicked heart was in her bosom. Suddenly she was seized 
with boundless grief. Yatzek stood before her eyes as if 
living, with his swarthy face and those pensive eyes, at 
which she had laughed more than once, saying that they 
were the eyes of a maiden. 

Her thought flies like a swallow after the knight and 
calls to him : “ Yatzek ! I wish you no evil. God sees my 
heart, Yatzek!” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


144 

Thus she calls to him, but he makes no answer ; he rides 
ahead, and if he does think of her, he only frowns and spits 
aside. 

Again there are pearls on her eyelids. A certain meek- 
ness has come on her, a moment of resignation, in which 
she says to herself: “Ah, this is difficult! May God for- 
give him, and go with him, and never mind !” 

But her lips quiver like those of a child, her eyes look 
like those of a tortured bird, and somewhere off in a hid- 
den corner of her soul, which is as pure as a tear, she 
blames God in the deepest secret for that which has met 
her. 

Then, again, she felt certain that Yatzek had never 
loved her; and she could not understand why he had not 
loved her, even a little. 

“My guardian spoke truly,” said she. 

But later on came reflection. 

“No; that could not be.” 

Immediately she recalled those words of Yatzek, which 
were fixed in her memory as in marble: “Not you will 
go — I will go ; but I will tell you that, though I have loved 
you during all these years better than my health, better 
than my life, better than my own soul, I shall not come 
back here ; I will bite my fingers in my grief, but IT1 not 
come back, so help me God!” When he said this he was 
as pale as the white wall, and he seemed almost mad from 
anger and suffering. 

He had not come back ; that was true ! He had appeared 
no more; he had left her; he had renounced her; he had 
abandoned her; he had wronged her; with an unworthy 
suspicion he and the priest had composed the dreadful let- 
ter — all that was true, and her guardian was right in that. 
But that Yatzek had never loved her; that after he had 
found money he had departed with a light and joyful heart ; 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


145 

that he thought of paying court to others; that he had 
ceased altogether to think of her — this was incredible. Her 
guardian might think so in his carefulness, but the truth 
was quite different. He who has no love does not grow pale ; 
does not set his teeth; does not clench his fists; does not 
rend his soul in anguish. Such being the ease, the young 
lady thought the difference was only this: that, instead of 
one, two were now suffering. Hence a certain consolation, 
and even a certain hope, entered her. The days and months 
which were to come seemed gloomier, it may be, but not so 
bitter. The words of the letter ceased to bum her like red- 
hot iron ; for, though she doubted not that Yatzek had as- 
sisted in the writing, it is one thing to act through sorrow 
and pain, and another through deliberate malice. 

So again great compassion for Yatzek took hold of her; 
so great was it, and especially so ardent, that it could not 
be simply compassion. Her thoughts began to weave and 
turn into a certain golden thread, which was lost in the 
future, but which at the same time cast on her the glitter 
of a wedding. 

The war will end ; so will their parting end. 

That stubborn Yatzek would not return to Belchonchki. 
Oh, no ! a man so resolute as he when once he says a thing 
will adhere to it ; but he will come back to these parts and 
return to Yirombki ; he will live nearby, and then that will 
happen which God wishes. He went away, it may be with 
tears, it may be with pain, with wringing of hands, God 
comfort him ! He will come home with a full heart, and 
with joy, and — especially after the war— with great glory. 

Meanwhile she will be there quietly in Belchonchki, 
where her guardian is so kind; she will explain to that 
guardian that Yatzek is not so bad as other young men — 
and farther on moved that golden thread which began to 
wind round her heart again. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


146 

The goldfinch in the Dantzic clock of the drawing-room 
whistled out a late hour, but sleep flew from the young lady 
altogether. 

Lying now on her bed, she fixed her clear eyes on the 
ceiling and considered what dispositions to make of her 
troubles and sorrows. If Yatzek had gone, it was only be- 
cause he was running away from her; for, according to 
what she had heard, war was still far from them. Her 
guardian had not mentioned that young Stanislav and the 
Bukoyemskis were to go away, also ; it was proper to come 
to an understanding with them and learn something of 
Yatzek, and say some kind word which might reach him 
through them, even in distant camp and in war time. 

She had not much hope that those gentlemen would come 
to Pan Pongowskfs, for it was known to her that they had 
gone over to Yatzek, and that for a certain time they had 
been looking with disfavor on Pan Pongowski ; but she re- 
lied on another thing. 

In some days there would be a festival of the Most Holy 
Lady — a great festival — at the parish church at Pshitik, 
where all the neighboring nobles assembled with their fami- 
lies. She would see Pan Stanislav and the Bukoyemskis, 
if not in front of the church, then at dinner in the priest’s 
house. On that day the priest received every one. 

She hoped, too, that in the throng she would be able to 
speak with them freely, and that she would not meet any 
hindrance from her guardian, who, though not very kind 
toward those gentlemen recently, could not break with them 
in view of the service which they had shown him. 

To Pshitik from Belchonchki the road was rather long, 
and Pan Pongowski, who did not like to hurry, passed the 
night at Radom, or at Yedlina, if he chose the road through 
the latter place. 

This time, because of the overflow, they took the safer, 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


147 


though longer, road through Radom, and started on the eve 
of the festival on wheels, not on runners, for winter had 
suddenly broken. Pani Vinicka began to sing the morn- 
ing prayers in the dark, and the young lady and Pan 
Gedeon joined her with very drowsy voices, for the evening 
before they had gone to bed late because of preparations 
for the journey. Only beyond the village and the small 
forest, in which thousands of crows found their night rest, 
did the ruddy light shine on the equally ruddy face and 
drowsy eyes of the young lady. Her lips were fixed ready 
for yawning; but when the first sun-ray lighted the fields 
and the forest she shook herself out of the drowsiness and 
looked around with more sprightliness, for the clear morn- 
ing filled her with a certain good hope and a species of glad- 
ness. 

The calm, warm, coming day promised to be really won- 
derful. In the air appeared, as it were, the first note of 
early spring. 

After unparalleled snows and frosts came warm, sunny 
days all at once, to the astonishment of people. Men had 
said that from the New Year it seemed as if some power 
had cut off the winter, as it were, with a knife-blade; and 
herdsmen foretold by the lowing of cattle, then restive in 
stables, that ’the winter would not come back again. In 
fact, spring itself was then present. In furrows, in the 
forest, at the north side of woods and along streams strips 
of snow still existed ; but the sun was warming them from 
above, and from beneath were flowing out streams and cur- 
rents, making in places broad overflows, in which were re- 
flected wet, leafless trees, as in mirrors. The damp ridges 
of fields gleamed like belts of gold in sun-rays. At times a 
strong wind rose, but so filled with gladsome warmth as if 
it came from out the sun’s body directly, and, flying over 
the fields, wrinkled the waters, throwing down with its 


148 


‘THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


movement thousands of pearls from the slender, dark twigs 
of the tree branches. The road was very muddy, and the 
heavy carriage, drawn by six horses, moved very slowly and 
with difficulty. As the sun rose more and more, the air 
grew so warm that Panna Seninska untied the ribbons of 
her hood, which dropped to the back of her head, and un- 
buttoned her weasel-skin coat. 

“Are you so warm?” inquired Pani Vinicka. 

' “Spring, auntie, real spring!” replied the girl. 

She was so charming, with her bright and somewhat dis- 
heveled head, with her laughing eyes and rosy face, 
that the stem eyes of Pan Pongowski grew mild as he 
glanced at her. For a while he seemed as if looking at 
her then for the first time, and spoke, as if half to himself, 
half to her : 

“Upon my word, you are not worse than spring !” 

She smiled in answer; then she said, after a while: 

“Oh, how slowly we are moving !” 

“The road is so bad ! Is it not true that before starting 
on a long journey one should wait till the road dries some- 
what ?” 

Pan Pongowski’s face became serious, and he looked out 
of the carriage without giving an answer. 

He rose, looked ahead, and said, soon after : 

“Yedlina!” 

“Shall we, perhaps, go to the church?” inquired Pani 
Vinicka. 

“Ho; first, because the church is sure to be closed, for 
the priest has gone to Pshitik, and second, because he has 
offended me greatly, and I will not give him my hand when 
he offers me his.” 

Then he added : “I ask you, and you, also, Anusya, not 
to converse with him in any way.” 

A moment of silence ensued. Suddenly the tramping of 


THE FIELD OF GLORf. 449 

horses in the mud was heard behind the carriage; then loud 
voices were heard on both sides of the carriage. 

u We bow to you ! We bow to you !” 

“We bow to you !” answered Pan Pongowski. 

“Are you bound for Pshitik ?” 

“I go every year. I suppose you are going there, too?” 

“Of course,” replied Marek. “One must be purified 
from sin before war comes.” 

“But is it not early yet?” 

“Why should it be too early?” asked Lukash. “All sins 
we have committed until now will fall from our shoulders, 
since that is the use of absolution ; and as to sins incurred 
later, the priest absolves from those on the battlefield, in 
particulo mortis” 

“You wish to say in particulo 

“IPs all the same, if only repentance is real.” 

“How do you understand repentance?” inquired the 
amused Pan Pongowski. 

“How do I understand repentance? Last time the priest 
commended that we give one another thirty lashes in dis- 
cipline, and we gave fifty; for we thought: ‘Well, since this 
pleases the Heavenly Powers, let them have all they want 
of it.” 

At this even the serious Pani Yinicka laughed, and 
Panna Seninska hid her face in her broad sleeve as if to 
w arm it there. 

Lukash noticed, as did his brothers, that their answer 
had aroused laughter, hence they were somewhat offended 
and silent; so for a time were heard only the rattling of 
chains on the carriage, the snorting of horses, the sound 
of mud under hoofs, and the croaking of crows. Immense 
flocks of these birds were sailing away in the sunlight from 
small places and villages to the pine woods. 

“Ah! they feel this very minute that there will be food 


150 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


even to wade in,” said the youngest Bukoyemski, turning 
his eyes toward the crows. 

“Yes; war is their harvest,” said Matvey. 

“They do not feel it yet, for war is far off,” said Pan 
Pongowski. 

“Far or near, it is certain!” 

“And how do you know?” 

“We all know what the talk was at the district Diets, and 
what instructions will be given to the general Diet.” 

“True; but it is not known if they were the same every- 
where.” 

“Pan Pshilubski, who has traveled a great deal, says 
they were the same everywhere.” 

“Who is Pan Pshilubski?” 

“He comes from Olkus, and makes levies for the Bishop 
of Cracow.” 

“But has the Bishop commended to make levies before 
the assembling of the Diet ?” 

“You see, this is the best proof that war is certain. The 
Bishop wants a splendid light cavalry regiment. Well, Pan 
Pshilubski came to these parts because he has heard of us 
somewhat.” 

“Oh, oh ! Your glory has gone far through the world. 
Have you enlisted ?” 

“Of course!” 

“All of you?” 

“Why should we not all go? It is a good thing during 
war to have a friend at one’s side, and still better a 
brother.” 

“Well; and young Ciprianowicz ?” 

“He and Pan Tachewski will serve in one regiment.” 

Pan Pongowski glanced quickly at the young lady sitting 
in front ; a sudden flame rushed over her cheeks, and he in- 
quired further : 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 15 1 

“Are they so intimate already. Under whom will they 
oerve ?” 

“Under Pan Sbierzkhowski.” 

“Of course in the dragoons ?” 

“In God’s name, what are you saying? That is the hus- 
sar regiment of Prince Alexander.” 

“Is it possible ! Is it possible ! That is no common regi- 
ment ” 

“Pan Yatzek is no common man.” 

Pan Pongowski had it on his lips to say that such a strip- 
ling in the hussars would be a soldier, not an officer; but 
he held back the remark, fearing it might seem that his 
letter was not so polite or his help so considerable as he 
had told Panna Seninska. So he frowned and said : 

“I have heard of the mortgage of Yirombki; how much 
was given on it ?” 

“More than you would have given,” answered Marek, 
drily. 

Pan Pongowski’s eyes glittered for a moment with sav- 
age anger; but he restrained himself a second time, for it 
occurred to him that further conversation might serve his 
purpose. 

“All the better,” said he, “the cavalier must be satisfied.” 

The Bukoyemskis, though slow-witted by nature, began 
to exaggerate, one more than the other, just to show Pan 
Pongowski how little Tachewski cared for him and all those 
that remained in Belchonchki. 

“Of course!” called out Lukash. “When he went away 
he was almost wild from delight. He sang so that the can- 
dles at the inn toppled over. It is true that we had drunk 
some at parting.” 

Pan Pongowski looked again at Panna Seninska, and 
saw that the rosy face, full of youth, had become, as it 
were, petrified. Her hood had fallen off entirely, her eyes 


152 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


were closed as in sleep; only from the movement of her 
nostrils and the slight quivering of her chin could it be 
known that she was not sleeping, but listening, and listen- 
ing intently. It was painful to look at her; but the merci- 
less noble thought : 

"If there is still a wound in your heart I will pluck it 
out.” 

And he said aloud : 

"Just as I expected.” 

"What did you expect?” 

"That you gentlemen would be drunk at the parting, and 
that Pan Tachewski would go away singing. He who is 
seeking fortune must hurry, and if it smiles on him per- 
haps he may catch it.” 

Marek replied : 

"Father Voinowski gave Tachewski a letter to Pan 
Sbierzkhowski,wlio is his friend, and in Sbierkhova the land 
is such that you can sow onions in any place; and he has 
an only daughter, just fifteen years of age. So don’t you 
bother about Tachewski ; he will make his way without you, 
and without these sands around Radom !” 

"I do not bother myself about him,” said Pan Pongow- 
ski, drily. "But perhaps you gentlemen are in a hurry to 
ride on ? My carriage moves in this mud like a tortoise.” 

"Well, we bow to you !” 

Having said this, the brothers moved forward more 
speedily; but when they had ridden an arrow-shot from the 
carriage they halted again and talked with animation. 

"Did you see?” asked Lukash; "for I struck both the 
girl and the old man.” 

"How? Tell us — do not hide !” called the brothers. 

"Didn’t you hear?” 

"We heard; but repeat.” 

"I struck with what I said of Panna Sbierzkhowski. You 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


153 


saw how the girl became pale? I looked at her; she had 
her hand on her knee, and she opened and closed it, opened 
and closed it, just like a cat before scratching. She was 
boiling with anger.” 

But Matvey stopped his horse and added : 

“I am sorry for her — such a dear little flower; and do 
you remember what old Ciprianowicz said ?” 

“What did he say ?” inquired, with great curiosity, Lu- 
kash, Marek and Yan, stopping their horses. 

Matvey looked at them a while through his protruding 
eyes, then said, as if in sorrow: 

“But the trouble is that I have also forgotten.” 

Meanwhile not only Pan Pongowski, but Pani Yinicka, 
who generally paid but very little attention to what was 
happening around her, now noticed the changed face of the 
young lady. 

“What is the matter, Anusya? Are you cold?” 

■“No,” answered the girl, with a sort of sleepy voice 
which seemed not her own. “Nothing is the matter, only 
the air affects me strangely — so strangely.” 

And, though her voice fell immediately, there were no 
tears in her eyes. 

On the contrary, certain peculiar sparks gleamed in 
them, and her face seemed to have aged. 

Noticing this, Pan Pongowski asked himself : 

“Shall I start to strike the iron while it is hot?” 


154 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


CHAPTER XI. 

Nobles from near and far-distant places gathered to- 
gether at the festival in Pshitik. There were the Kokha- 
nowskis, the Podgayetskis, the Silnitskis, the Potwozowskis, 
the Sulgostowskis, Ciprianowicz, with his son, and many 
others. But the greatest interest was aroused hy the ar- 
rival of Field-Marshal Sandomerski-Chaztoriski, who 
stopped off at Pshitik on his way to Warsaw. He was 
going to the Diet, and now, waiting for the festival, he 
attended church with devotion. He talked willingly to 
everybody, spoke of the injustice which the Porte had com- 
mitted on the republic while fixing the boundary of Podo- 
lia; he spoke of the invasions which, despite the treaty, 
again laid waste Russian lands, and he declared that war 
was imminent in the near future. He said that a treaty 
would surely be concluded with the Emperor, and that 
even .the adherents of France would not come out openly 
against it; for the entire French Court, though generally 
unfriendly to the empire, knew full well the danger in 
which the republic found itself at the present time. Prince 
Michael could not say, of course, whether the Turks would 
first attack Cracow or Vienna ; but of one thing he was 
sure — the enemy was near Adrianople, and that, aside from 
forces stationed under the command of Tyekeli, at Ko- 
shitsa, thousands were coming from Hungary, from Ru- 
melia, from Asia, from the shores of the Euphrates and 
the Tigris, from Africa, from the Red Sea down to the 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


156 

boundless ocean. The nobles listened eagerly to the words 
of the old field-marshal — the older men, who knew of the 
great power of the pagans, with an expression of anxiety 
in their faces ; the younger men with fire in their eyes. 

But hope and enthusiasm predominated, for the memory 
of Khotim was still fresh in their minds; and at Khotim 
the reigning King, at that time only a hetman, leading the 
then insignificant Polish forces, attacked the great Turkish 
regiments and slashed them with their sabres and tram- 
pled them with their horses’ hoofs! All were encouraged 
by the thought that the Turks, who rushed with irresistible 
daring on all the troops of other nations, grew faint-hearted 
when they had to face the terrible cavalry of “Lehistan” 
in the open field. Father Voinowski’s sermon aroused still 
more hope and enthusiasm. Pan Pongowski was somewhat 
afraid lest there should be some insinuations in this ser- 
mon, which would censure his tactics with regard to Ta- 
chewski ; hut there was nothing of the sort. The priest gave 
himself up entirely, heart and soul, to the war and the mis- 
sion of the republic. “Christ has chosen you,” he said, 
“from among all nations; He has selected you to guard the 
others; He commanded you to stand under His cross and 
defend the faith with your blood, to the last drop, to the 
last breath within you ! Before you is the field of glory, 
and, though you bleed to death, though spears and darts 
still pierce your body, arise, 0 lion of God, shake your 
mane and roar so loud that the marrow in the bones of the 
pagans will freeze for terror and that the Turkish stand- 
ards and crescents will fall like trees uprooted by a tem- 
pest.” 

Thus he spoke to his knightly listeners ; and, as he was 
an old soldier himself, as he had fought all his life and 
knew how things were on the battle-field, when he spoke 
to them of war it seemed to them that they saw the paint- 


156 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


ings in the King’s castle at Warsaw, on which various bat- 
tles and Polish victories were represented. 

“Now the regiments have started, the spears already 
lowered to the horse-ears, the warriors leaned forward in 
their saddles ; amidst the pagans resounded a cry of alarm, 
and in the sky was joy. The Most Holy Mother runs over 
to the little window and calls, ‘Come, my Son ; see how the 
Poles are attacking!’ Lord Jesus blesses them with the 
holy cross. ‘God’s wounds !’ He exclaims. ‘There are the 
nobles, there the warriors! Their reward is ready for 
them.’ And Michael the Archangel strikes himself on the 
thighs, shouting : ‘Strike the rascals ! Strike !’ Thus they 
rejoice in heaven, and our forces keep on striking them, 
overthrowing horses, people, standards; they trample over 
the 'bodies of Janizaries, over captured cannon, over rum- 
pled crescents; they go toward glory, toward the perform- 
ance of their destination, toward salvation and immor- 
tality.” 

When he, at last, finished with the words, “Christ is 
calling you, too; it is time for you, also, to start for the 
field of glory !” a stem exclamation and the clank of swords 
rang out in the church ; and when the gospel was read all 
these swords were bared, and they glittered in the sun so 
that it seemed to the tender women that the war had be- 
gun already, and they burst into sobs, committing their 
fathers, husbands and .brothers to the care of the Holy 
"V irgin. 

Then the Bukoyemskis, whispering among themselves, 
made a solemn vow to start immediately after the festival, 
and not to touch with their lips water, milk, or even beer 
until Easter, but to content themselves only with such 
drinks as keep up heat in the blood, and thus, also, daring. 

The general enthusiasm was so great that even the stern 
Pan Pongowski could not resist it. For a moment he even 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 157 

thought that, though he had lost his left hand, he could 
hold the reins in his teeth, and with his right hand avenge 
the wrongs which he had suffered from the cursed pagans; 
and, besides, he could regild his former services to the 
republic. 

But he made no vow, leaving the matter for the future. 
Meanwhile the service was conducted with its usual splen- 
dor. Cannon, furnished for all great festivals by the Ko- 
khanowskis, were fired from the cemetery. The swinging 
bells were roaring in the tower; the tame bear in the gal- 
lery worked with such a swing that the lead pipes almost 
flew from their settings; the church was filled with the 
smoke from censers and wns quivering from the pressure 
of the people's voices. Mass was celebrated by prelate 
Tvorkowski, of Radom — a learned man, full of sentences, 
quotations, proverbs and edifying stories ; at the same time 
he was a cheerful man, who knew the world thoroughly. 
For this reason many people turned to him for counsel in 
important matters. 

Pan Pongowski turned to him, too — all the more readily 
because they were friendly. On the eve of the festival he 
was with him at confession ; but when he began to tell him 
of his intentions with regard to Panna Seninska, the priest 
postponed this conversation for some other time, declaring 
that he hardly had time enough to hear of the sins of the 
people. He advised Pan Pongowski to send away the 
women after the festival to Belchonchki, and that he him- 
self remain in his house at Radom, where, “procul negoitis ,” 
he could freely listen to him. 

So it was. Next day they sat down before a bottle of 
fine Hungarian wine and a plate of roast almonds, which 
the priest was fond of eating with his wine. 

“ Conticeo ” said the priest, “intentusque os teneo , 
speak.” 


158 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


Pan Pongowski took a drink from his glass and glanced 
at the prelate with some discontent, because he did not 
make it easy for him to start. 

“ Ilm ! I feel somewhat embarrassed, and I see that the 
thing will be more difficult than I had imagined.” 

“Then let me help you. Is it not of something holy that 
you wish to speak?” 

“Of something holy?” 

“Of course! Of something with two heads and four 
feet.” 

“What sort of a holy thing is that?” asked Pan Gedeon, 
amazed. 

“That’s a riddle! Guess it!” 

“ Most esteemed prelate, he who has serious affairs in his 
mind cannot solve riddles !” 

“Think a while.” 

“ Something holy, with two heads and four feet ?” 

“Exactly.” 

“By God ! I can’t guess it.” 

“It is holy matrimony. Is it not so?” 

“By God, it is true ! Yes, yes; that is just the thing I 
wanted to speak to you about.” 

“Is it about Anusya Seninska?” 

“Exactly. You see, my benefactor, she is almost a rela- 
tive of mine, but our relationship is so distant that no one 
could prove it. But I have become attached to her because 
I have reared her, and I am indebted to her family; for the 
Pongowskis, even as the Danilowskis and the Sobieskis, 
received everything either from the Seninskas or after 
them. I should like to leave all my possessions to the or- 
phan ; but, to be frank, the fortune of the Pongowskis has 
vanished after the Tartar invasion, and all I have is the 
estate of my deceased wife. This estate is mine, because 
it is in my name, but there is a great number of my wife’s 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


159 

relatives. First of all is Pan Grotus, the Starost of Rai- 
grod. But, then, I do not fear him, for he is a kind man 
and he has more than he needs. It was he who gave me 
this idea, although it had more than once occurred to me 
before. But my desire slumbered in the depth of my 
heart, and he merely aroused it. Still, besides Pan Grotus, 
there are the Sulgostowskis, the Kshepetskis, the Labezhow- 
skis. These look upon the girl unfavorably even now; but 
how would they look upon her after my death? I will 
make a will, leaving everything to her, and they will go 
to court, lawsuits will commence, and what will the poor 
girl do? And I must leave her everything. There is at- 
tachment, there is gratitude — and these are strong links; 
and now I ask you, with a clear conscience : am I not 
bound to secure her at least in this way?” 

The priest cracked an almond and shoved one-half to Pan 
Gedeon. 

“Do you know why I like this almond? Because it is 
good. If it were wormy, I would not eat it.” 

“Well, what do you mean by that ?” 

“I mean to say that you like Anusya because she is an 
almond. Eh! And what an almond! But if she were 
fifty years old your conscience would be at ease concerning 
her future.” 

Pan Pongowski became confused ; but the priest went on : 

“I do not blame you at all, for there must be a good 
reason in everything, and such is the will of God that every- 
body prefers a young turnip to an old one. With wine it is 
different, and therefore we willingly submit to Providence 
with regard to wine.” 

“Yes; it is true that everything, except wine, is better 
the younger it is, and Pan Kokhanowski must have been 
jesting when he wrote that an old oak, like an old man, is 
always above a young one. The most important thing to 


160 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


me is that if I leave my estate to my wife no one would 
dare to lay a finger on it ; and if I were to leave it to her as 
a ward there will at once be many lawsuits, quarrels and, 
perhaps, even armed attacks. And who would protect her? 
Of course, not Pani Vinicka.” 

“ That’s quite true.” 

“But, as a judicious man, not a giddy youth, I did not 
wish to be guided by my own judgment alone; therefore I 
have come to you to be confirmed in the conviction that I 
am acting properly, and to be supported by your wise 
counsel.” 

The priest thought a while, and said : 

“You see, it is difficult to give advice in such a matter, 
and you will more than once repeat with Boetius: 'Si 
tacuisses , philosophus mansisses* ; or with Job: ‘Stultus 
quoque si tacuerit, sapiens reputabitur’ (Even a fool, if he 
remain silent, will be considered a wise man). Your in- 
tentions, roused from awakened love, may be justified, and, 
as you bear in mind the welfare of the girl, they are even 
praiseworthy. But will not some harm come of this to her? 
Will it not be necessary to force her to go to the altar? I 
have been told that she and Yatzek Tachewski are in love, 
and I am telling you frankly, without beating about the 
bush, that while I was at your house I observed a thing or 
two.” 

“What have you seen?” asked Pongowski, abruptly. 

“Nothing sinful, but signs which denote intimacy and 
love. I saw more than once that they held each other’s 
hand longer than was needed, that they followed each other 
with their eyes — various things which prove secret feelings. 
You will say that this is not important! Of course 
it is not important. But that she, by the will of 
God, was more inclined toward him than he was in- 
clined toward her, only a blind person would fail 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


161 

to notice; and I am surprised that you have not seen it, 
and, if you did see it, that you did not put an end to it, 
since you had these intentions.” 

Pan Pongowski had seen and known all this; neverthe- 
less, the priest’s words made upon him a terrible impres- 
sion. 

It is one thing to hide something painful in your heart ; 
it is quite another when somebody pushes his hand to your 
bosom and touches the sore spot. The old noble’s face 
grew red, his eyes filled with blood, the veins stood out on 
his forehead. He breathed so heavily that the priest asked, 
with alarm: 

“What is the matter with you?” 

Pan Gedeon motioned with his hand, but made no reply. 

“Drink some wine !” exclaimed the priest. 

Pongowski took the glass with trembling hands, lifted 
it to his lips, took a sip, coughed, then whispered : 

“My head began to reel.” 

“Because of what I said to you?” 

“No. It has often happened to me of late, and now I 
am fatigued by the journey, by the fast, and by this early, 
unexpected spring.” 

“Then perhaps it would be better for you not to wait 
until May, but be bled immediately.” 

“I think so, too. But I will rest a minute, and we will 
return to this matter.” 

Some time elapsed before Pongowski recovered com- 
pletely; the veins on his forehead relaxed, his heart began 
to beat normally ; and he said : 

“I will not say that my strength has given out, and if 
I were to squeeze this silver cup with my one hand I think 
I would easily make it as flat as a pancake. But health 
and strength are not the same thing, although both are in 
God’s hand.” 


162 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“ Human life is frail 

“That is why it is necessary to make haste. You speak 
of Tachewski and of the affection which the young people 
might feel toward each other. I will say frankly, I was 
not blind. I have also noticed that something was happen- 
ing, but I noticed it only of late. You must remember that 
till recently she was a green berry, and even now she has 
barely ripened. He came every day, true, but then it may 
be that he had nothing to eat at home; that is why I re- 
ceived him — out of compassion. Priest Voinowski gave 
him lessons in Latin and in fencing, and I gave him food — 
that’s all. He became of age only last year. I looked upon 
them as upon children whose minds were occupied with 
games and mischief, and I considered it a natural matter. 
But that such a pauper should dare to think — of whom? 
Of Panna Seninska! This, I confess, never entered my 
mind, and only toward the very end I began to notice 
something.” 

“A pauper is a pauper, but Tachewski ” 

“Of Starvationville ? No, my benefactor; he who licks 
other people’s saucepans is a fit companion only for dogs. 
Thus, when I understood what was going on I began to 
watch him more closely; and do you know what I found? 
I found that he was not only a pauper and a sharper, but 
also a poisonous reptile, ever ready to sting the hand that 
was feeding him. Thank God ! he is gone, but before leav- 
ing he stung not me alone, but also that innocent girl.” 

“So, that’s the kind of man he is?” asked the prelate. 

Pan Pongowski began to tell him how it happened, paint- 
ing Tachewski’s action in the blackest colors. 

“Fear not, my benefactor,” he said, concluding: “During 
our journey to Pshitik the Bukoyemskis added insult to 
injury — they filled the cup to overflowing; so that now 
Anusya feels no such abhorrence for any creature of God 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


163 


as she feels for that sharper, that degenerate, that lazy- 
bones !” 

“ Compose yourself, for yon will stir np your blood 
again.” 

“True. I did not wish to speak of this at all. I wished 
to say that it is not my intention to wrong the girl or to 
force her in any way. Persuasion is another matter. But 
that should be used by an outsider, by a mutual friend of 
ours, an influential man of great wisdom, who can speak: 
eloquently, move the heart and convince the reason. Hence 
I wished to ask you, for I know your good-will toward me, 
and I feel sure that you will not refuse me — that you will 
do this not only out of friendship, but because you consider 
my cause right and worthy.” 

“It is a question of your good and of hers, therefore I 
shall not refuse,” said the prelate; “but I should like to 
have time to consider what would be the best way of 
doing it.” 

“Then I go at once to the barber and have him bleed 
me, so as to return home with a clearer mind, and you 
think of the plan in the meantime. You will not find it 
difficult, and as for the other side, I think there will be no 
obstacle.” 

“There may be only one obstacle, Pan Pongowski.” 

“What is it?” 

“Friendship is frank, and therefore I will speak to you 
frankly. You are an honorable man — I know that — but 
you are somewhat stubborn. Such is your reputation, and 
you have it because all those dependent on you fear you. 
Hot only the peasants, on account of whom you have quar- 
reled with Father Voinowski, but even your servants and 
attendants, everybody in the house. Tachewski feared you, 
Pani Vinicka fears you, and the girl also fears you. 
Usually two matchmakers come; I shall do all within my 


164 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


power, but T am afraid' that the other matchmaker ma) 
spoil my work.” 

Pan Pongowski’s eyes flashed with anger for a moment ; 
he did not like when people told him the truth to his 
face; but his anger was overcome by amazement, and he 
asked : 

“Whom are you referring to ? What other matchmaker?” 

The priest replied : 

“Fear.” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


165 


CHAPTER XII. 

Rut they were unable to go that same day to Belchonchki, 
for Pan Pongowski had grown very weak after bleeding, 
and said that he needed rest. Next morning, however, he 
felt brighter, as though he had grown young, and he ap- 
proached his house with good hope, though with a certain 
uneasiness. Completely occupied with his own thoughts, 
he spoke little along the way with the priest ; but when they 
were entering the village, and when his uneasiness was 
growing more intense, he said : 

“It is strange. Before this I usually came home as mas- 
ter, and all others were concerned as to how I would greet 
them; while now I feel concerned as to how they will 
greet me.” 

“Virgil has said,” repeated the priest, “ ‘Amor omnia 
vincitf (Love conquers everything) ; but he forgot to add 
‘ mutat This Delilah will not shear your locks, for you 
are bald ; but I shall see you spinning at her feet, as Her- 
cules spun at the feet of Omphale — that is certain.” 

“My nature is not of that kind. I have known always 
how to hold in my fists both servants and household.” 

“ So people say ; but for this very reason it would be right 
that some one should bridle you.” 

“The bridle is a dear one!” said Pan Pongowski, with 
a joyousness which for him was unusual. They drove very 
slowly, for the mud in the village was terrible; and, since 
they had started from Radom not before midday, night had 
fallen already. In the cottages at the two sides of the road 
light came from the windows and fell in red lines across the 
road, Here and there near the fence appeared some human 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


166 

form, that of a woman, or of a man who, seeing the trav- 
elers, bared his head and bowed as low as his girdle. It 
was clear from these bowings, which seemed excessive, that 
Pan Pongowski held people in his fist — nay, more, that 
he held them too firmly, and that Father Voinowski blamed 
him not without reason for tyranny. But the old noble 
felt in his bosom a softer heart than had ever been in it 
till that evening ; so, looking at those bent figures, and see- 
ing the windows of those cottages leaning earthward, he 
said: 

"I will do something for the peasants; Anusya always 
takes their part.” 

“Of course, you must do something,” said the priest, and 
they became silent. Pan Pongowski was occupied for a 
time with his own thoughts ; then he added : 

“I know that you need no advice in this matter, but you 
must explain to the lady what a benefaction is becoming 
ready for her, and that I think about her first of all ; but, 
in case of resistance, which I do not expect — well, then, 
even scold her in some degree.” 

“You said that you did not wish to constrain her.” 

“I said so; but it is one thing if I were to threaten, and 
another if some one else, who, besides, is a spiritual person, 
exposes her ingratitude.” 

“Leave that task to me. If I have undertaken it, I will 
use my best efforts to accomplish it ; but I will talk to the 
girl in the most tender way possible.” 

“Very well, very well ! But, one word more : She feels 
great abhorrence for Tachewski, but should there be any 
mention of him it would be well to say something more 
against him.” 

“If I acted as you say, I would be nequam ” 

“We are arriving. Well! In the name of the Father, 
and the Son •” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


167 


“ And the Holy Ghost. Amen ! ” 

They arrived, hut no one came out to meet them ; for the 
wheels made no sound because of the deep mud, and the dogs 
did not bark at the horses nor at the men, whom they recog- 
nized. It was dark in the hall, for the servants were evi- , 
dently sitting in the kitchen; and it happened that when 
Pan Pongowski first called, “Is any one here?” no one 
came to him, and at the second call, in sharper tones, the 
young lady herself appeared. 

She was holding a light in her hand, but, as her face was 
in the gleam of it and they in the darkness, she did not rec- 
ognize them at once, and remained near the threshold. They 
did not speak for a moment, since, to begin with, it seemed 
a special sign to them that she had come out before others ; 
and second, because her beauty astonished them as much 
as if they had never beheld it till that moment. The fin- 
gers with which she grasped the candle seemed transparent 
and rosy; the gleam crept along the bosom, lighted her lips 
and her small face, which looked somewhat drowsy and sad, 
perhaps because her eyes were in a deep shade, while her 
forehead and the glorious bright hair, which was as a crown 
just above it, were still in full radiance. And she, all in 
quiet and splendor, stood there in the gloom like an angel 
created from ruddy brightness. 

“ Oh, by God, a vision !” said the prelate. 

Then Pan Pongowski called : 

“ Anusya !” 

Leaving the light in a niche of the chimney, she ran to 
them and gave greeting joyously. Pongowski pressed her 
to his heart tenderly, commended her to rejoice at the ar- 
rival of a guest so distinguished — a man famous as a giver 
of counsel — and when, after greeting, they entered the 
dining-hall, he asked: 

“Is supper over?” 

- * * 


168 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“No. The servants were to bring it from the kitchen, 
and that is why no one was standing at the entrance.” 

The priest looked at the old noble and asked : 

“ Shall we take np the matter right away?” 

“No, no,” answered Pongowski; “Pani Yinicka will 
arrange everything.” 

And, indeed, Pani Vinicka arranged everything, and 
fifteen minutes later they sat down to heated wine and 
fried eggs. Priest Tvorkowski ate and drank well; but at 
the end of the supper he became serious, and he said, turn- 
ing to the girl : 

“My gracious young lady, God knows why people call 
me a counselor, but, since your guardian calls me so, I must- 
speak with you on a certain matter which he has given my 
poor wit to accomplish.” 

The veins swelled on Pongowski’s forehead; the young 
lady paled somewhat and rose, for, through some unknown 
reason, it seemed to her that the prelate would talk about 
Yatzek. 

“I beg you to come with me to another room,” said he. 

And they left the dining-hall. 

Pan Pongowski sighed deeply once and a second time; 
then he drummed on the table with his fingers, and, feeling 
the need of talking down his internal emotions by words of 
some kind, he said to Pani Yinicka: 

“Have you noticed how all the relatives of my late wife 
hate Anusya?” 

“Especially the Kshepetskis,” answered Pani Yinicka. 

“They almost gnash their teeth when they see her; but 
soon they will gnash them still harder.” 

“Why?” 

“You will learn in good season; but meanwhile we must 
get a room ready for the prelate.” 

Soon Pan Pongowski was alone, The servants came to 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


160 

remove the supper dishes, but he sent them away with a 
quick burst of anger, and there was silence in the dining- 
hall ; only the great Dantzic clock repeated loudly and with 
importance, “Tik-tak! tik-tak!” 

Pan Pongowski placed his hand on his bald head and 
began to walk in the chamber. He approached the door 
beyond which the prelate was talking with Anusya; but 
he heard merely sounds, in which he distinguished the 
voice, but not the words, of the prelate. 

So, in turn he walked and halted. He went to the win- 
dow, for it seemed to him that there he would breathe with 
more freedom. He looked for a while at the sky with eyes 
from which expression had vanished — that- sky over which 
the wind was hurrying the tom clouds of spring, with light 
on their upper edges, through which the pale moon seemed 
to rise higher and higher. As often as he rested an evil 
foreboding took hold of him. He looked through the win- 
dow, close to which black limbs of trees were wrestling back 
and forth with the wind as if in torment ; in the same way 
his thoughts were struggling back and forth — disordered, 
evil, resembling reproaches of conscience, and painful fore- 
bodings that some bad thing would happen, and that near 
punishment was waiting; but when it grew bright out of 
doors he was again filled with hope. 

Every one has a right to think of his own happiness, and 
as for Yatzek Tachewski, it was of little importance what 
such people did ! What was the question at present ? The 
happiness and peace of a young girl. And, besides,' life 
smiled on him a little in his old age — and this belongs to 
him. This only is real ; the rest is wind, wind ! 

And he felt again that his head was reeling, and black 
circles danced before his vision ; but this lasted very briefly. 
Then he approached the door behind which his fate was in 
the balance, Meanwhile the light on the table acquired a 


170 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 

V 

long wick and the chamber grew gloomy. At times the 
voice of the prelate became sharper, so that words would 
have reached the ear of Pan Pongowski had it not been for 
that loud and continuous ticking. 

It was easy to understand that such a conversation could 
not end quickly; still, Pan Pongowski’s alarm grew and 
grew, turning, as it were, into certain wonderful questions 
woven into the past, with memories not only of former 
misfortune and pain, but also of former inextinguished 
transgressions, of former grievous sin, and of recent injus- 
tices inflicted not only on Tachewski, but on other people. 

“Why and wherefore should you be happy ?” asked his 
conscience. 

And at that moment he would have given anything if 
even Pani Vinicka might return to the room, so that 
he should not be alone with those thoughts of his. But 
Pani Vinicka was occupied with work somewhere in an- 
other part of the house, while in this room only the clock 
kept ticking; and his conscience asked him again and 
again : 

“Why should God reward you?” And Pan Pongowski 
felt now that if that girl, who was at once like a flower and 
an angel, should fail him, his life would be muffled in dark- 
ness which would last till the night of death should descend 
on him. 

At this moment the door opened suddenly and Panna 
Seninska came out, with tears in her eyes. Behind her 
was the priest. 

“You are weeping?” asked Pan Pongowski, with a hoarse, 
stifled voice. 

“ From gratitude, guardian,” replied the girl, outstretch- 
ing her hands to him. 

And she clasped his knees. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


171 


CHAPTER XIII. 

That same night Pani Vinicka came into the room 
of her relative, and, finding her still dressed, she started a 
conversation with her. 

“I cannot recover from amazement,” said she. “I never 
expected that such an idea would come to the head of the 
old man.” 

“ Neither did I expect it.” 

“Well, how is it, then? Will it really be so?” 

“I don’t know what to do — to be glad or not. We know 
that the prelate, as a spiritual person, has better judgment 
than laymen. He is right when he says that till death you 
will have a shelter — and your own, not another’s. But 
Pan Pongowski is old” — here she spoke lower — “are you 
not a little afraid of him ?” 

“It is done, and there is nothing to think of at present,” 
answered Panna Seninska. 

“What do you say?” 

“I say that I owe him gratitude for a refuge and a mor- 
sel of bread ; and my person, for which no one else cares, is 
but a poor reward to him. But, since he cares, that is a 
new favor on his part.” 

“He wished for this long ago,” said the old woman, mys- 
teriously. “After he had talked to-day with you he called 
me. I thought that there was something wrong with the 
supper, and that he would reproach me, but he said noth- 
ing. I saw that for some reason he was cheerful, and all 


172 THE FIELD OF GLORY. 

at once he broke the news to me. My legs trembled under 
me.” 

“ ‘What is the matter ¥ asked he. ‘You are turned, like 
Lot’s wife, to a pillar of salt/ said he. ‘Is it because I have 
taken such a mushroom ¥ 

“ ‘No/ I answered, ‘but because it is so unexpected/ 

“ ‘With me/ said he, then, ‘that is an old idea. Like a 
fish at the bottom of a river, it was unknown till some one 
helped it to swim to the surface. And do you know who 
that was V 

“I felt sure that it was the prelate. 

“ ‘Not at all/ said he, ‘but Pan Grotus/ ” 

A moment of silence followed. 

“But I thought of Pan Tachewski,” said Anusya, through 
her set teeth. 

“Why Tachewski?” 

“To show that he did not care for me.” 

“But you know that Tachewski has not seen Pan Pon- 
gowski.” 

She began to repeat, feverishly : 

“Yes, I know ! He had something else in his head ! Let 
that go ! I do not want to know anything. I do not, I do 
not ! It is all finished, and finished well.” 

A dry, nervous weeping shook her bosom. After a mo- 
ment she repeated again : 

“It is finished beyond recall !” 

Then they knelt down, praying “Our Father,” which they 
repeated each evening in company. 

Next day she appeared with a calm face; but something 
had changed in her, something remained unexpressed;, 
something had shut itself up in her. She was not sad, but 
all at once she had grown, as it were, some years older, and 
she had in her now a certain calm dignity; so that Pan 
Pongowski, who hitherto had taken into account himself 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


173 

only, began, without noting it, to consider her, also. In 
general he was unable to command himself, and it seemed 
to him especially strange that he felt in some sense his de- 
pendence on Anusya. He began to fear those thoughts 
which she did not express, but which she might conceal in 
her spirit. He tried to forestall such, and put in place of 
them others, of the kind which he wanted. Even the silence 
of Pani Yinicka was oppressive and seemed to him sus- 
picious ; so he worked out fantastic pictures, talked, joked ; 
but at times gleams of anger flashed up in his steely eyes. 

Meanwhile news of his engagement had spread through 
the neighborhood. Of this engagement he now made no 
secret; on the contrary, he sent letters announcing it to 
Pan Ciprianowicz and to his nearest neighbors; he wrote 
letters to the Kokhonowskis, to the Podlodowskis, to the 
Sulgotowskis, to Pan Grotus, to the Kshepetskis, and even 
to distant relatives of his late wife, with invitations to the 
betrothal, after which the marriage would be celebrated 
immediately. 

True, Pan Pongowski would have preferred to ask for 
permission to dispense even with the publication of the 
banns, but unfortunately it was the Lenten season, and he 
had to wait till after Easter. He took both women, there- 
fore, to Eadom, where the young lady was to make her wed- 
ding outfit and he to buy better horses than those which 
were at that time in the Belchonchki stables. 

Eumors came to him that among the relatives who had 
hoped to inherit everything, not only after his late wife, 
but after him, there was as much movement as there is in 
a beehive; but this pleased him, since he hated them all 
from his innermost spirit, and was planning at all times 
to harm them. Those tidings of meetings, whispered con- 
ferences and counsels shortened his visit to Radom. And 
when at last his stay there was ended, and the horses, to- 


174 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


gether with new harness, were purchased, he returned on 
Easter eve to his mansion. Guests began to arrive almost 
at the same time, for the betrothal was to take place on the 
third day after Easter. 

First came the Kshepetskis, who were both Pan Pongow- 
ski’s relatives and nearest neighbors. The father was al- 
most eighty years old, with the visage of a vulture and re- 
nowned as a miser. He had three daughters: Tekla, the 
youngest, was a pretty and cheerful girl; Agneshka and 
Johanna were old maids. He had a son, Martsian, nick- 
named Penyok (Stump). He bore the name justly, for he 
looked very much like a big stump. He had a mighty chest 
and broad shoulders ; his bow-legs were so short that he was 
almost dwarf-like, and his arms reached his knees. Some 
thought him a hunchback; he was not, however, but his 
head, without a neck, was fixed so closely to his body that 
his high shoulders reached his ears, very nearly. Out of 
that head peered prominent, lustful eyes, and his face was 
like that of a he-goat. A small beard, which he wore as 
if in defiance of general custom, increased the resemblance. 
He did not serve as a warrior, for he had been ridiculed in 
the army, for which reason he had to fight many duels. 
There was uncommon strength in his stumpy body, and peo- 
ple feared him in all places, since he was a quarreler and a 
road-blocker, who, in every affair, was glad to seek pre- 
texts; he was as irritable as a vicious beast, and wounded 
savagely in Radom one Kshepetski, his cousin, a handsome 
and kind young man, who almost died of the injuries then 
inflicted. Not only his sisters, but even his father feared 
him; and he felt respect only for Yatzek, whose skill at the 
sabre was known to him, and before the Bukoyemskis, one 
of whom, Lukash, threw him over a fence like a bundle of 
straw once in Yedlina. 

He had the deserved reputation of being a great proffi- 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


175 

gate. Pan Pongowski had driven him out of the house a 
few years before that because he had looked too much in 
goat-fashion at Panna Seninska,who was a little girl at that 
time. But since then some years had passed, and, as they 
had met later in Radom, and in neighboring houses, Pan 
Pongowski invited him now to the family celebration. 

* Soon after the Kshepetskis came the Sulgostowskis, twin 
brothers, who so resembled each other that when they put 
on coats of like fashion no man could distinguish them. 
Next came three remote Sulgostowskis from beyond Prytik, 
and then the family of the nine handsome Zbierzowskis. 
Prom among the nearer neighbors came Pan Ciprianowicz, 
alone, for his son had gone to his regiment already ; Podlo- 
towski, the starosta, once the agent of the great lord in 
Zamostye; the Kokhanowskis ; the priest from Pshitik; the 
prelate Tvorkowski, from Raclom, who was to bless the wed- 
ding rings, and many nobles from near and distant places. 
Some came even without invitation, with this idea: that 
a guest, though quite unknown, would be sure to find wel- 
come, and that when there is a chance to eat and drink, a 
man should not miss it. 

Belchonchki was crowded with carriages and wagons ; the 
stables were filled with horses, the outbuildings with ser- 
vants of all sorts; everywhere in the house were colored 
coats, sabres, shaven heads. Latin was spoken here and 
there, and the twittering of women resounded above all. 
Maids were flying around with hot water, and tipsy servants 
with excellent wine in bottles. From morning until night 
hours the kitchen was streaming like a tar-pit. The win- 
dows of the house gleamed and flashed, so that the whole 
place around there was radiant. And Pan Pongowski 
moved through this crowd from room to room, magnificent, 
important, grown young, as it were, for the second time, 
dressed in crimson, and wearing a sabre which glittered 


176 the field of glory. 

with jewels — a sabre which Panna Seninska had in- 
herited; it was her only dowry from wealthy forefathers. 
If giddiness seized him, he leaned on an armchair; and 
again he moved forward, showed honor to guests who were 
personages, and struck one heel against the other when 
greeting older ladies; but, above all, he followed with eyes 
which were more and more enamored “his Anusya,” who 
bloomed in that colored throng. Amid glances which were 
frequently ill-wishing, frequently jealous, and filled some- 
times with venom, she was as fair as a lily, timid, some- 
what sad, or only conscious, it may be, of the importance 
of the event. 

On the evening of the third day — Tuesday — the mortars 
of the mansion thundered, *thus announcing to the guests 
and the village that the solemn moment of betrothal had 
come. 

Then the guests formed a half-circle in the drawing- 
room — men and women in splendid costumes bright as a 
rainbow in the light of the candles. In front of them stood 
Pan Pongowski and Panna Seninska. Silence settled down, 
and the eyes of the people were fixed on the bride, who, 
with downcast eyes, with attention and dignity on her face, 
without a smile, but not sad, seemed as if drowsy. The 
prelate Tvorkowski, accompanied by Tekla Kshepetski, who 
held a silver plate with the wedding rings on it, advanced 
from the half-circle and addressed those who were soon to 
be married. He spoke learnedly, long, and with eloquence, 
explaining what “sponsalia de futuro” meant, and what 
great importance from the earliest days of Christianity was 
attached to betrothals. He quoted Tertullian and the 
Council of Trent, and, turning to Pan Pongowski and 
Panna Seninska, he explained to them how wise their de- 
cision was, what great benefaction they promised each 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


m 

other, and how their future happiness depended on them- 
selves only. 

The guests listened with amazement, but also with im- 
patience, for they looked on that marriage with repugnance. 
Pan Pongowski, who, from standing long, had grown dizzy, 
began to rest on one leg and then on the other, and to give 
signs with his eyes to the prelate to finish. These signs 
he was not quick to notice, but at last he blessed the rings 
and put them on the fingers of the betrothed. 

Then the mortars thundered again in the yard, and from 
the gallery in the dining-hall was heard a loud orchestra, 
made up of five Radom Jews, who played nicely. The 
guests advanced in turn to congratulate the bridegroom 
and the bride with sour and insincere smiles. The two 
Kshepetski old maids simply jeered as they curtsied to 
their “aunt”; and Pan Martsian, when kissing her hands, 
recommended himself to her graces with such a goat glance 
that Pan Pongowski ought to have driven him from the 
house a second time. 

But others, more remote relatives, being less greedy, ex- 
pressed their sincere, cordial wishes. 

Now the door of the dining-hall was thrown open; Pan 
Pongowski gave his arm to his betrothed, and after him 
moved the other couples, amid the glitter and the quivering 
of flames caused by a sudden cold gust which had blown 
through the entrance. From the hallway came the servants, 
half-tipsy, with decanters of wine and a number of dishes. 

From the opening of doors there was such a cold air in 
the dining-hall that guests, while sitting down to the table, 
were seized the first moment with a shiver, while the flick- 
ering of candles made the whole hall, in spite of its elegant 
furnishing, seem dark and gloomy. But it was proper to 
hope that wine would soon warm the blood in all present, 
and wine was not spared by Pan Pongowski. He was rather 


178 


!THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


stingy in every-day life, but on exceptional occasions lie 
liked so to show himself that people spoke long of him 
afterwards. This happened now. Behind every guest stood 
an attendant with a moss-covered bottle, while under the 
table were hidden a number of servants.with bottles, also ; so 
that m case a guest, unable to drink any more, should put 
down his glass on his knees, they filled it immediately. 
Immense glasses and goblets were in front of each man, 
but before the ladies were smaller glasses, either French 
or Italian. 

The guests, however, did not occupy the whole table, for 
Pan Pongowski had commanded to set more plates than 
there were guests in the house. The prelate cast his eyes 
on those unoccupied places, and began to praise the hospi- 
tality of the house and the master; he rose in his chair 
somewhat, wishing to arrange the folds of his soutane, and 
those present supposed that he was going to offer the first 
toast, so they became silent. 

“ We are listening !” said a number of voices. 

“ Oh, there is nothing to listen to,” said the prelate, mer- 
rily. “There is no toast yet, though the time will come 
soon for it. I see some of you gentlemen rubbing your 
heads rather early, and Pan Kokhanowski is whispering and 
counting on his fingers. It is difficult to expect rhymes 
from any if not from the Kokhanowskis. I wish to say, only, 
that it is an old Polish and praiseworthy custom to set the 
table for unexpected guests.” 

“Oh,” answered Pan Pongowski, “as the house is lighted 
up, some one may come from the darkness.” 

“Perhaps some one is coming,” said Kokhanowski. “Per- 
haps Pan Grotus?” 

“No; Pan Grotus has gone to the Diet. If a man comes, 
it must be some one entirely unexpected.” 

“But the earth is soft — we shall not hear him.” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 179 

“ There, a dog is barking under the window ; some one is 
coming.” 

“No one will drive in from that side, for the windows 
come out into the garden.” 

“And the dog is not barking — he is howling.” 

That was the case, really. The dog had barked once, twice, 
a third time ; then the barking turned to a low howling. 

Pan Pongowski quivered, despite himself, for he remem- 
bered how, years and years earlier, in another place, at his 
house in Russia, dogs had howled in the same way before 
a sudden invasion of Tartars. 

And Panna Seninska thought that she had no one to 
expect any longer, and that should any man come to her 
from darkness to that lighted mansion he would be late in 
his coming. 

But it seemed somehow strange to other guests, all the 
more as the first dog was joined by a second, and a double 
howl was heard now near the window. The guests listened 
in silence, which was broken, only after a while, by Mart- 
sian Kshepetski. 

“What do we care for a guest at whom the dogs howl?” 
said he. 

“Wine!” called Pan Pongowski. 

But the glasses were full ; hence there was no need to pour 
at that moment. Old Kshepetski, father of Martsian, rose 
from his chair somewhat heavily, wishing to speak, as 
seemed evident. All turned their eyes to him. Old men 
began to surround their ears with their hands to hear bet- 
ter; but he only moved his lips, after long waiting, his 
chin almost meeting his nose, for he was toothless. 

Meanwhile, notwithstanding the fact that the earth was 
soft from thawing, there came from the other side of the 
house, as it were, a dull clatter of wheels; and it was heard 
rather long, as if it went twice around the courtyard. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


180 

Hence old Kshepetski, who had raised his glass, held it a 
while ; other guests acted in the same manner. 

“See who has come!” said Pan Pongowski to his at- 
tendant. 

The servant rushed out, returned soon, and answered : 

“There is no one.” 

“That is strange,” said the prelate Tvorkowski. “The 
sound was heard clearly.” 

“We all heard it,” said one of the twin Sulgostowskis. 

“And the dogs have stopped howling,” said others. 

Then the door of the entrance, badly fastened by the 
servant, as was evident, opened of itself, and a new draught 
of air entered with such violence that it quenched from ten 
to twenty candles. 

“What is that?” “Shut the door!” “The wind blows 
out the candles !” said a number of voices. 

But some unknown terror rushed into the hall with the 
wind. Pani Yinicka, who was superstitious and timid, 
began to cross herself audibly : 

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy ” 

“Be silent, madam !” interrupted Pan Pongowski. 

Then, turning to Anusya, he kissed her hand. 

“A quenched candle cannot disturb my joy,” said he; 
“and God grant me to be as happy to the end of my days 
as I am at this moment. Is that not right, Anusya?” 

She, too, bent toward his hand. 

“Yes, guardian,” said she. 

“Amen !” ended the prelate. 

He arose and began to address them : 

“Ladies and gentlemen, since that unexpected sound has 
apparently paralyzed Pan Kshepetski’s witty speech, let me 
be the earliest expounder of those feelings with which our 
hearts are filled. Hence, ere we cry out, ‘0 Hymen/ let 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


181 

us raise this first toast to the coming happiness: ‘Vivant, 
crescant, floreant ! and health of the betrothed/ ” 

“Vivant, vivant !” thundered all the guests. 

Then the Eadom orchestra resounded, and outside the 
windows the drivers fell to cracking their whips. The ser- 
vants, too, raised a shout throughout the whole house, and 
in the dining-hall, amid endless cheers, rang the words : 

“ Vivcmt , crescant , floreant!” 

And silence came only when Pan Pongowski stood up, 
raised his glass, and said, in a loud voice : 

“My dear relatives, friends and guests ! Before I express 
with inadequate words my gratitude to all, I will bow to 
you profoundly for that brotherly and neighborly good- 
feeling which you have shown me by coming together here 
under my poor roof in such numbers ” 

The words “under my poor roof” were pronounced with 
a kind of marvelously mild and, as it were, submissive ac- 
cent ; then he sat down and bent his head, so that the fore- 
head rested really on the table. And the guests wondered 
that a man usually so distant and so haughty should speak 
with such affection. 

They thought that great happiness melts even the most 
obdurate hearts ; and, waiting for what he had to say fur- 
ther, they looked at his iron-gray head resting yet on the 
edge of the table. 

“Silence ! We are listening !” said voices. 

And, indeed, deep silence followed. 

But Pan Pongowski was motionless. 

“What is the matter?” “What has happened?” “For 
God’s sake !” “ Speak on !” 

But Pongowski replied only with a terrible rattling, and 
his back and shoulders began to twitch. 

Panna Seninska sprang from her seat, pale as a ghost, 
and cried, in a terrified voice : 


182 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“Guardian! guardian!” 

Noise and confusion filled the room; cries and questions 
were heard everywhere. 

The prelate seized him by the shoulders and brought him 
to the back of the chair. Some began to throw water on 
him; others suggested that he be taken to bed and bled at 
once. The women ran through the rooms with groans or 
with sobs. 

Pan Pongowski remained sitting, his head thrown back, 
the veins in his forehead protruding, his eyes closed; the 
rattling grew ever louder. 

The unexpected guest had come, indeed, out of darkness 
and entered his house, terrible and merciless. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY 


183 


CHAPTER XIV. 

At the command of the prelate the servants took the 
sick man and carried him to the other end of the house, to 
the “chancery,” which served Pan Pongowski also as a 
sleeping-room. They sent at once for the village black- 
smith, who knew how to open a vein, and who bled men as 
well as animals. It soon appeared that the blacksmith was 
in front of the house, together with a crowd collected there 
for amusement, but unluckily he was dead-drunk. Pani 
Vinicka recalled that Father Voinowski was recognized 
throughout the neighborhood as an excellent physician, 
and a carriage was sent for him, though it seemed clear 
that there was no longer any hope for the sick man’s re- 
covery. 

And so it really was. Except Panna Seninska, Pani 
Vinicka, the two Kshepetskis and Pan Labezhowski, who 
considered himself some kind of a physician, the prelate 
admitted nobody to the chancery, for fear the crowd might 
hinder recovery. All the other guests — women as well as 
men — gathered together in the adjoining drawing-room, 
where beds for the men had been provided; the crowd 
stood like a herd of scared sheep, filled with alarm and 
curiosity. And, watching the door, they waited for tidings, 
and some exchanged remarks in low voices concerning the 
terrible occurrence, and concerning the omens which had 
precast the misfortune. 

“Did you notice how the flame of the candles quivered? 
and the lights were of a strange red color; it seems that 
Death had overshadowed them,” said one of the Sulgostow- 
skis. 


184 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“ Death was among us, and we were not aware of it.” 

“And the dogs were howling at it.” 

“And that clatter of wheels? Perhaps Death came at 
that time.” 

“It seems God was against the marriage, which would 
have been an injustice to all relatives.” 

The whispering was interrupted by the appearance of 
Pani Vinicka and Martsian Kshepetski. She ran through 
the room, looking for the chest of relics with which to ward 
off evil spirits, and Martsian was immediately surrounded 
by the crowd. 

“Well, how is he?” 

Martsian shrugged his shoulders, raised them so that his 
head seemed almost on his chest, and said: 

“He is still rattling.” 

“Is there no hope?” 

“Hone.” 

At this time they heard distinctly through the half-open 
door Father Tvorkowski’s solemn words : 

“ Ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis, et ob omnibus censuris, 
in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sanctus. Amen.” 

All knelt and began to pray. Pani Yinicka passed 
among the kneeling people, holding the little chest with 
both hands. Martsian followed her and locked the door. 

But before a quarter of an hour had passed Martsian 
appeared again and cried out, in his squeaking voice of a 
clarionet : 

“He is dead!” 

Then all, saying “Eternal memory,” moved into the 
chancery, one by one, to cast a last farewell look at the de- 
ceased man. 

By this time revolting scenes were enacted at the other 
end of the house, in the dining-room. The servants at Bel- 
chonchki had feared Pan Pongowski and had hated him 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 185 

so bitterly that now it seemed to them together with his 
death their hour of freedom, joy and impunity had come. 
The servants of the guests also saw an occasion for revelry, 
and the crowd of servants, who had been intoxicated since 
midday, now rushed at the food and the wine. The ser- 
vants raised to their lips flasks of vodka, expensive liquor, 
and Hungarian wine; others, more greedy for food, fought 
over pieces of meat. The snow-white tablecloth was in- 
stantly stained with all sorts of beverages. In the tumult 
chairs were overturned and the candlesticks on the table 
upset. Ornamented cut-glass goblets fell from their 
drunken hands to the floor and broke with a crash. Here 
and there quarrels and fights ensued. Some stole dishes 
from the table. In a word, an orgy began, the noise of 
which reached even to the other end of the house. 

Attracted by this noise, Martsian Kshepetsld, the two 
Sulgostowskis, the young Labezhowski and another guest 
came out. When they saw what was going on they seized 
their swords. At the first moment the disturbance in- 
creased. The Sulgostowskis contented themselves with 
striking the drunkards with the flat of their swords, but 
Martsian Kshepetski was seized with a violent fury. His 
protruding eyes stood out still more, his teeth flashed from 
beneath his mustaches, and he began to slash with his sword 
all that came his way. Some of the servants were covered 
with blood; others hid under the table; still others sought 
refuge in disorderly flight ; and he kept on slashing with his 
sword, and shouting : 

“Scoundrels! Rascals! I am master here! I am mas- 
ter here !” 

He rushed after them into the hallway, where he cried, in 
a shrill voice : 

“Clubs! Rods !” 

And those that stood in the center of the hall, as on a 


186 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


battlefield, looked at each other, sad-eyed, and shook their 
heads. 

“I have never seen such things in all my life,” said one 
of the Sulgostowslds. 

And the other said : 

“It’s a queer death, under queer circumstances. Look at 
this — it is as though the Tartars had been here.” 

“Or evil spirits,” added Labezhowski. “What a terrible 
night!” 

Nevertheless, they commanded the servants to come out 
from under the table and bring some order in the room. 
The servants had sobered up for fear, and they went to work 
immediately. By this time Martsian returned. 

He had calmed down somewhat now, only his lips quiv- 
ered with anger. 

“They will remember this!” he said to those present. 
“But I thank you for helping me to punish those scoun- 
drels. They will not find it easier now than it was before, 
when their master was alive. I wager my head on that !” 

The Sulgostowskis looked at him, and one of them said : 

“You have nothing to thank us for, even as we do not 
thank you.” 

“How is that?” 

“Why do you consider yourself the sole judge in this 
matter?” asked one of the twins. 

Martsian began to jump up on his short bow-legs, as if 
he wished to spring to their eyes ; and he replied : 

“Because the law is on my side! The law is on my 
side!” 

“What law?” 

“The law is in my favor, not in yours.” 

“How is that ? Have you read the will ?” 

“What have I to do with a will?” (At this he blew on 
the palm of his hand.) “It is wind! To whom has he 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


187 

willed his estate? To his wife? But where is his wife? 
There you are! I am here the nearest relative — we, the 
Kshepetskis — not you ! Get out !” 

“What do you mean by driving us out? You had better 
watch your goat-head !” 

“You threaten me?” 

Here Pan Martsian bared his sword and advanced to- 
ward the brothers, but they, too, clasped the handles of 
their weapons. 

But at this moment Father Tvorkowski’s grief-laden 
voice resounded : 

“Gentlemen, gentlemen ! The dead man is not cold yet.” 

The Sulgostowskis became terribly confused, and one of 
them said : 

“Esteemed prelate, we do not need anything, because we 
have our own bread, and we do not stretch our hands to 
take that which does not belong to us. But this serpent is 
already beginning to sting ; he is playing the part of master, 
and orders people away from here.” 

“ What people ? Whom ?” 

“Whomever he pleases to. To-day he has ordered us 
away; to-morrow he may order away the orphan-bride liv- 
ing under this roof.” 

“That is not true! That is not true!” exclaimed Mart- 
sian. 

And suddenly, bending himself together, he began to 
laugh, rubbing his hands ; and he said, with a certain ven- 
omous kindness : 

“ On the contrary, on the contrary ! I invite everybody to 
the funeral ; I beg most humbly — my father and I beg you 
humbly; and as for Panna Seninska, she will always find 
shelter and protection here — always, always !” 

He rubbed his hands with great joy as he uttered these 
words. 


188 


JTHE FIELD OF GLORY. 


CHAPTEB XV. 

And, indeed, Martsian informed Panna Seninska that 
she might consider Belchonchki as her estate; hut he post- 
poned the end of this conversation until after the funeral. 
First he wished to discuss the matter with his father, who 
had had so many lawsuits during his lifetime that he was 
familiar with the law and knew how to evade all sorts of 
difficulties. Both felt certain that they had a good case, 
and therefore on the next day after the sad occurrence, just 
at the moment when Pan Pongowski was placed into the 
coffin, they shut themselves up in a side room and began to 
discuss the situation, filled with good hopes. 

“ Providence is in our favor !” said the old man. “There’s 
no use in talking. Providence is in our favor ! And Pan 
Pongowski will have to answer to Him for the injustice 
which he intended to do us.” 

“Let him answer!” said Martsian. “It is our good for- 
tune that he only intended to do it, but did not accomplish 
it, for we will now take everything into our hands. The 
Sulgostowskis have already quarreled with me, but I will 
wring their souls out of them before I let them have even 
a small piece of land of Belchonchki.” 

“The cursed scoundrels ! But I am not afraid of her, but 
of the will. Have you asked Father Tvorkowski ? If there 
is anybody that knows of it, it is he.” 

“It was impossible to ask him last night, for he scolded 
us when I was quarreling with the Sulgostowskis. ‘The 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


189 

dead man is not cold yet/ he said; then he went for the 
coffin, for the priests ; and to-day there has been no oppor- 
tunity.” 

“What if Pan Pongowski has willed everything to that 
goat of a girl ?” 

“He had no right to make such a will, for this estate be- 
longed to his deceased wife, our nearest relative.” 

“The will will be annulled, but there will be expenses, 
going to tribunals, and God knows what else.” 

“You are accustomed to lawsuits, and I have a scheme 
in my mind that will make all lawsuits altogether unneces- 
sary. Meanwhile beatus qui tenet , and for this reason I 
shall not leave Belchonchki. I have already sent for our 
servants. Let the Sulgostowskis or Zabezhowskis drive me 
out later !” 

“But how about her, if it is willed to her?” 

“Who will take her part ? She is all alone in the world ; 
she has no friends, no relatives — she is an orphan. Who 
will feel like exposing his neck for her sake, like giving 
himself up to quarrels, duels and expenses? Who needs 
her? Tachewski w r as in love with her, but Tachewski is no 
more ; he may never come back, and even if he does, he is 
a pauper, and he knows about lawsuits just as much as 
my horse. To tell the truth, even if it were not Pongow- 
ski, but her own father, that left Belchonchki to her, w r e 
could come here and manage things as we please, under the 
pretext of guardianship over the orphan. I think that Pon- 
gowski had intended to make a will only in the marriage 
contract; so that there is either no will at all, or, if there 
is a will, it is made out in favor of Panna Seninska as his 
‘charge/ ” 

“And such a will we can break,” said the old man. “I 
wager my head on that. Though a lawsuit cannot be 
avoided.” 


190 


THE field of glory. 


“Why not? I am listening to you, but I think it can 
be avoided.” 

‘‘Speaking between us, if the deceased Pani Pongowski 
(she was a fool! May God rest her soul!) left all to her 
husband, then he had a right to leave it to anybody he 
pleased.” 

Pan Kshepetski uttered the last words almost in a whis- 
per, and looking round on all sides, though he knew that 
nobody except themselves was in the room. 

But the son asked : 

“How could she will it to him, when she died suddenly?” 

“ The will was made out a year after their wedding. Evi- 
dently Pongowski wrested from her the will by force, for 
they lived in pernuus places, and no one knew when the 
Tartars would make an onslaught. He also made out a 
will to her. There was a time when I was going to sue 
him, but I saw that I could not succeed. Now it is alto- 
gether different.” 

“Now we shall manage without a lawsuit.” 

“If we can, all the better; but we must be prepared.” 

“I shall manage it without you.” 

The old Pan Kshepetski, on hearing this, felt offended. 

“You will manage? You will only spoil the matter. He 
will manage it ! Didn’t you advise me not to sue the Sil- 
nitskis concerning Druzhkov, because, you said, nothing 
could be gained by it? Was nothing to be gained? Why 
not? They had witnesses to swear to the land — what a 
great thing! I ordered my people to put earth from my 
yard into their boots — and what was the result? They 
went to Pan Silnitski’s estate, and not one of them swore 
falsely when they said : ‘I swear that the earth on which I 
stand belongs to Pan Kshepetski.’ And you would have 
thought a whole year and could not devise a scheme like 
that. You will manage it alone? Just think of it!” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 191 

He began to stir his toothless jaws in agitation, as if he 
were chewing something, and his chin almost reached his 
nose, which was hooked like the bill of a bird of prey. 

“Compose yourself and listen,” said the son. “If it is 
a question of ‘lege agere cum aliquo / I shall always leave it 
to you ; but as to what concerns the fair sox, my experience 
is greater, and I have more confidence in myself in such 
matters.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“If it comes to a case against Panna Seninska, it will 
not be settled before any tribunal.” 

“How then?” 

“It is not difficult to guess. Has not my time arrived? 
or can you find a girl like her in this region?” 

Saying this, Martsian lifted his head high and gazed into 
his father’s eyes. The old man looked at him, too, with a 
searching glance, chewed with his gums, and then asked : 

“Do you think so?” 

“Why not ? This thought has been in my mind not since 
yesterday.” 

“Why not ? Because she is as poor as Lazarus.” 

“But she will get Belchonchki without any trouble. You 
remember. Pan Pongowski said that if one were to look 
through the papers of the Seninskas, half a province could 
be gotten back by law. Even the Sobieskis are greatly in- 
debted to them, hence there would be royal protection. The 
King himself should think of a dower for her. And I have 
long liked that girl — long, long !” 

And he jumped up on his short legs, licking his lips, and 
looked so repulsive that old Kshepetski said : 

“She will not want you.” 

“And she wanted old Pongowski? Eh? Were there not 
many girls that wanted me? A host of young men have 
gone to the army, so we may soon be able to buy girls by 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


102 

the dozen, like horseshoe nails. Old Pongowski knew why 
he drove me out of the house, and he would not have done 
it if he had not been afraid for the girl.” 

“But supposing that she will not want you — what then?” 

A fire of malice glistened in Martsian’s eyes* 

“Then,” he answered, with emphasis, “then I can man- 
age it so that the girl, who is without protection, will beg 
me herself to take her to the altar.” 

But the old man was frightened by these words. 

“What?” he asked. “Do you know that such an act is 
criminal ?” 

“But I know that no one would take the girl’s part.” 

“I say to you, take care! As it is, people are against 
you. Whether you win the lawsuit over the inheritance or 
you lose it, you will not be disgraced ; but this is a criminal 
act — do you understand ?” 

“It will not come to that unless she herself wants it. 
But do not hinder me; only act as I will tell you. Imme- 
diately after the funeral you will take Tekla home, and, if 
you can find some pretext, take, also, the old Pani 
Yinicka along, and I will remain here by the orphan with 
Agneshka and Joanna. These reptiles rage at anybody who 
is prettier and younger than they are. They began yester- 
day to sting the poor girl — but what will happen when they 
remain with her under one roof ? They will sting her, bite 
her, reproach her for every crust of bread ! I can see all 
this as though I read it in a book, and this is water for my 
mill.” 

“What will you grind with it?” 

“What will I grind? When there will be trouble among 
them, I will insult those reptiles, slap their faces, if neces- 
sary; and I will kiss the orphan’s hands and knees, saying: 
T am your defender, your brother — I am your true friend, 
and you are the real mistress.’ And do you think that her 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


193 

heart will not soften, that she will not fall in love with him 
who will shield her and guard her, who will wipe her tears 
away, who will watch over her day and night? And if, in 
her despair and excitement, she will come to some extraor- 
dinary confidence, so much the better! So much the bet- 
ter ! So much the better ! ” 

Here Martsian began to rub his hands, and looked at 
his father with his goat-like eyes so strangely that the old 
man had to spit in disgust. 

“Tfu ! You pagan! There is always one and the same 
thing in your mind.” 

“ Chills shoot through my frame when I look at her. It 
was not for nothing that Pongowski had driven me out from 
this house.” 

A minute of silence followed. 

“Then you will tell Joanna and Agneshka to act accord- 
ing to your instructions ?” 

“There is no need of giving them any instructions — their 
nature is quite sufficient. Tekla alone is a dove, while the 
others are vicious crows.” 

And, indeed, Pan Martsian had not deceived himself, for 
his sisters, each in her own way, began to nag at Panna 
Seninska. Tekla clasped her in her arms and wept to- 
gether with her, and Joanna and Agneshka also consoled 
her, but in another manner. 

“That which can’t be helped can’t be helped,” said the 
elder sister; “but compose yourself. You will not be our 
aunt, because God has not willed it ; but nobody will do you 
any harm here — nobody will grudge you a crust of bread.” 

“And nobody will compel you to work,” went on the 
other sister; “we know that you are not used to it. When 
you have recovered, and will want it yourself, then it is 
another matter. In any ease, don’t be in a hurry — wait 
until your grief subsides ; for, indeed, a terrible misfortune 


194 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


has befallen you. You were to become an important lady, 
you were to have a husband ; and now you have nobody, ex- 
cept us. But, believe us, though we are not relatives, we 
will treat you as relatives.” 

Then Joanna started again: 

“Be reconciled to the will of God. God has punished 
you, but therefore He will pardon many of your sins. You 
trusted too much in your beauty, you were too eager for 
wealth and rich clothes (but, then, we are all sinners in this 
respect; therefore I only say this) ; but this will atone for 
the other sins.” 

“Amen!” concluded Agneshka. “Give some valuable 
thing to the church for the repose of his soul, because you 
have no need any longer of your dower, and we will ask 
father to allow you to do this.” 

They looked with sharp eyes at the dresses which lay 
on the table, and at the trunks containing her trousseau. 
They were so curious to see everything that Joanna could 
no longer restrain herself ; and she said : 

“Perhaps you want us to help you find something?” 

And they rushed to the trunks in which Anusya’s robes 
lay still unpacked. And Panna Seninska sat, leaning on 
Tekla, not knowing what was going on about her. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


195 


CHAPTER XYI. 

As a bride, Panna Seninska felt as if something in her 
life had grown dark; as if something had been extin- 
guished ; as if something had been broken off ; as if a heavy 
door had been closed before her; and her betrothal had 
roused no joy in her heart. She had given her consent 
merely because it had been Pongowski’s will; she had felt 
bound to do it out of gratitude to her guardian, and still 
more because after Yatzek’s departure her heart was filled 
with bitterness and grief, and with the painful thought 
that, save her guardian, she had no one in the world, and 
that were it not for him she would be like an orphan lost 
amidst strangers and enemies. But a thunderbolt had sud- 
denly struck the hearth at which she was to sit down, con- 
tent with any kind of peace, and the only man in the whole 
world in whom she took an interest was no more. And 
small wonder that this thunderbolt had stunned her at the 
first moment, and that all her thoughts had become con- 
fused in her head ; and in her heart was congealed a feeling 
of sorrow for the only soul near to her — a feeling mingled 
with amazement and terror. 

Therefore the words of the elder Kshepetski sisters, who 
had started to rob her trousseau, were to her sounds without 
meaning. Then Martsian came, bowed, rubbed his 
hands, jumped, and spoke for a long time; but she 
understood him as little as she understood all the 
other guests, who, according to custom, approached 


196 


The field of glory. 


her with words which expressed all the more sym- 
pathy the less sincere they were. And only when 
Pan Ciprianowicz laid his hand on her head in fatherly 
manner and said, “May God protect yon, orphan,” some- 
thing stirred in her heart and tears rushed to her eyes. 
ISTow, for the first time in her life, it occurred to her that 
she was as a helpless leaf tossed by the wind. 

In the meantime began the ceremonies, which, in accord- 
ance with custom, lasted for ten days, since Pongowski had 
been a man of importance in the vicinity. During the first 
few days the general attention was directed to Panna Se- 
ninska; hut later, when people noticed that the Kshepetskis 
had taken complete possession of the house, and that they 
alone appeared as the masters, they ceased to regard the 
young lady, and at the end of the ceremonies they treated 
her as an ordinary housekeeper. 

Only Pan Ciprianowicz, moved by her tears and by her 
sad plight, thought of her. The servants were whispering 
that the old maids had carried off her trousseau and that 
the old Kshepetski had hidden her jewels in his box. And 
everybody began to deal roughly with the young lady. 
When these reports reached Pan Serafin his kind heart was 
touched, and he resolved to talk the matter over with 
Pather Yoinowski. 

But Father Yoinowski was so prejudiced against Panna 
Seninska because of Tachewski that he said at the very be- 
ginning of the conversation : 

“I feel sorry for the poor girl in her misfortune, and I 
shall do all I can to help her; but — speaking between our- 
selves — God has punished her for Yatzek; that seems cer- 
tain.” 

“But Yatzek is away, even as my Stanislav is away, and 
she remains here alone, an orphan.” 

“Yatzek went away — but how? You saw him before he 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 197 

left, but I went with him farther, and I can tell you that 
the young fellow had his teeth set firmly ; but his heart was 
bleeding so that he could not utter a word. Oh, how he 
loved that girl ! Only people of former generations could 
love like that! The people of to-day can’t love in such a 
manner.” 

“But he was able to move his hands. I have heard that 
he had a quarrel just beyond Radom, and that he slashed 
more than one or two passing nobles.” 

“Yes ; that is because he has a girl’s face, and every ruf- 
fian thinks he can easily get rid of him. Some drunken 
fellows picked a quarrel with him — what was he to do? 
I’ll lecture him for that — I will. But you must remember 
that a man with a bleeding heart is just like * leo , quaelens 
quern devoret / ” 

“True, true; but as for the girl — eh, esteemed Father, 
only God knows whether she is really as much to blame as 
you imagine.” 

“Mulier est insidiosa /’ 

“ Insidiosa , or not; but when I heard that Pongowski 
wanted to marry her it occurred to me at once that perhaps 
he was the root of all the evil, for he must have considered 
it absolutely essential to get him out of the way once for 
all.” 

But the priest shook his head : 

“No. We recognized by his letter that it was written at 
her instigation. I remember it well, and I could repeat 
it to you word by word.” 

“I remember it, too; but we could not know what Pon- 
gowski had told her and how he described Yatzek’s deeds 
to her. For instance, the Bukoyemskis confessed to me that 
when they met her with Pongowski on the road to Pshitik 
they purposely told her that Yatzek went away, after a 
great spree, laughing, cheerful, and unusually interested in 


198 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


the daughter of Pan Sbershkhovski, to whom you had given 
him a letter of recommendation.” 

“But how they lied ! Why did they do it?” 

“To show the girl and Pongowski that Yatzek had 
dropped them out of his mind altogether. But note this : 
if the Bukoyemskis said this out of friendship for Yatzek, 
what must have Pongowski said out of hatred for him?” 

“I am sure he did not spare him. But even if she is not 
so much to blame as we had imagined, what of it? Yatzek 
is gone, and he may never, perhaps, return. As far as I 
know him, he will spare his life even less than Pongowski 
had spared his reputation.” 

“Tachewski would have gone in any case,” replied Pan 
Ciprianowicz. 

“And if he does not come back I will not tear my coat 
on me. To die for the country, in a war against Moham- 
medan baseness, is an end worthy of a knight, and a worthy 
end for a noble family. But I should have preferred to see 
him depart without that painful wound in his heart.” 

“Neither has my son known personal happiness in his 
life ; he also went, and, it may be also, never to return to 
me,” replied Pan Ciprianowicz. 

And both were lost in meditation, for both of them loved 
the young men with all their hearts. 

As they were thus absorbed in thought Tvorkowski, the 
prelate, came in, and, on learning that they had been dis- 
cussing Panna Seninska’s future, he said : 

“Gentlemen, I will tell you (but let this he a secret) 
that Pan Pongowski has left no will, and that the Kshepet- 
skis had a right to take possession of the estate. I know 
that he wished to will everything to his wife in the marriage 
contract, but he died before the will had been executed. 
Don’t mention this before the Kshepetskis.” 

“But you have not said anything to them, have you?” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


199 


“Why should I? They are cruel people, and I wanted 
it that they should not be too cruel toward her; and I have 
not only withheld the information, but have told them: 
‘Not only does God sometimes test a man, hut one man 
sometimes to test another/ When they heard this they 
were greatly alarmed, and they started to inquire : ‘What 
does it mean ? Do you know anything ?’ Then I told them : 
‘That which is to come out will come out. Remember one 
thing: Pan Pongowski had a right to will his estate to 
whomever he pleased/ ” 

The prelate began to laugh, and, putting his hands under 
his violet girdle, continued : 

“When old Kshepetski heard this his legs began to trem- 
ble and he began to argue. ‘No-/ he said, ‘it’s impos- 
sible; he had no right whatever! Neither God nor men 
would agree to that / And I looked at him sternly and 
said: 

“ ‘You do well by mentioning the name of God, for at 
your age it is necessary to think of His mercy; but do not 
turn to the earthly tribunals, for it may be that you will 
not live to hear the decision/ He was frightened ; while I 
added : ‘And be kind to the orphan, that God may not pun- 
ish you sooner than you imagine !’ ” 

Father Voinowski, whose compassionate heart was moved 
at the fate of the girl, clasped the prelate in his embrace. 

“Benefactor !” he exclaimed, “with such a mind as yours 
is, you should have been a chancellor ! 1 understand ! I 

understand! You have not said anything; you have not 
parted with the truth, and you have frightened the Kshe- 
petskis. They are now under the impression that there is 
a will, that it is even in your hands, and therefore they 
must treat the girl better.” 

The prelate, pleased with the praise, touched his head 
with his finger and said : 


200 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“Not quite like a nut with holes in it?” 

“There is so much wisdom in it that there is no room 
for more.” 

“Yes; all will be well, if it pleases God, but I think that 
I have really saved the orphan from abuse. On the other 
hand, I must admit that the Kshepetskis, against my ex- 
pectations, spoke of Panna Seninska with kindness and 
humanity. The old maids had stolen some things belong- 
ing to her, but the old man said that he would compel them 
to return them to the young lady.” 

“Even if the Kshepetskis were the worst people in the 
world, they would not dare to be unjust to an orphan who 
is under the vigilant surveillance of so wise and kind a 
spiritual counselor as you are. But, most revered bene- 
factor, I wish to ask you about another matter : do me the 
honor to come to me in Yedlinka. Permit me to welcome 
under my roof such a notable personage, whose words are 
the honey of politeness and wisdom. Father Yoinowski 
has already accepted my invitation; so now we could, all 
three of us, discuss du publicis et privatis .” 

“I know what your hospitality is, and to decline it would 
cause me great vexation; and since Lent, the time of self- 
subjection, is over, I will gladly go to you for a day,” re- 
plied the prelate, affably. “Let us bid the Kshepetskis fare- 
well; but first we must go in to see the orphan, so that 
they shall know how highly we respect her.” 

They went, and, finding her alone, they began to speak 
to her kind, sincere words, thus giving her hope and cour- 
age. Pan Ciprianowicz stroked her on her fair hair, as a 
mother would do in order to soothe her sorrowing child. 
The prelate Tvorkowski did the same, and the kind-hearted 
Father Yoinowski was so touched by her emaciated face 
and its sad expression (which reminded him of a flower of 
the field cut down by the scythe before its time) that he 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 201 

even embraced her; and, as he was thinking of Yatzek all 
the time, he said, half to her, half to himself : 

“How could one wonder at Yatzek, since this picture 
was before him? The Bukoyemskis lied when they said 
that he was cheerful before leaving — oh, how they lied !” 

On hearing this she suddenly pressed#her lips to his hand, 
and she could not tear them away for a long time. Her 
bosom was shaken with sobs, and she was still weeping bit- 
terly when they left her. 

An hour later they were already in Yedlinka, where good 
news was awaiting them. A man came with a letter from 
Stanislav. Young Ciprianowicz reported that both Yatzek 
and he had joined the hussars of Prince Alexander, that 
they were well, and that Yatzek, though still sad, had re- 
gained some cheerfulness and was no longer quite as pen- 
sive as during the first few days. Then, besides the words 
of filial love, there was in the letter a postscript which 
astonished the old man. “If you,” wrote Stanislav, “should 
see the Bukoyemskis on their way back, be not astonished, 
and treat them with kindness, for a strange accident has 
happened to them. We cannot help them in any way; if 
they will have no opportunity to go to war, they will die 
of sorrow, which even now has almost killed them.” 

During the following months Pan Serafin visited Bel- 
chonchki, desiring to learn how Panna Seninska was. This 
was not through any personal motive, for his son, Stanislav, 
was not in love with the girl, and everything had been 
broken between her and Yatzek. Still, he came to see her 
chiefly out of kindness, and partly, also, out of curiosity, 
for he wished to find out to what extent the girl was to 
blame for the rupture in the relations between her and 
Yatzek. 

But he did not succeed so easily. True, the Kshepet- 
skis respected him for his great wealth and received him 


202 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


gladly; but it was a strange hospitality, so continuously 
watchful that he could never find himself alone with the 
girl. 

He understood that the Kshepetskis did not wish him to 
ask her any questions as to how she was being treated, and 
this set him thinking, though he did not notice that she 
was ill-treated or compelled to work too hard. True, twice 
he had found her cleaning with a crust of bread white satins 
of such size that they could not have been her own, and he 
found her darning stockings in the evening ; but the Kshe- 
petski girls were doing the same, hence this was not in- 
tended to humiliate the orphan by making her do degrading 
work. The old maids were occasionally quarrelsome, and 
stinging as nettles ; but Pan Serafin soon realized that such 
was their nature, and that they could not restrain them- 
selves from the pleasure of gnawing even their brother, 
whom they feared to such an extent that a single look of 
his was enough to make them draw back their stings di- 
rectly. Martsian himself was polite and kind to Panna 
Seninska, though without obtrusion, and after the depar- 
ture of old Kshepetski he became still more agreeable. 

This departure was not to Pan Ciprianowicz’s liking, 
although it was plain enough that the feeble old man could 
not be left without the care of a woman; and, since they 
had two houses, the Kshepetski family had to be divided. 
Of course, Pan Serafin would have preferred that Tekla 
remain with the orphan; but when he hinted vaguely at 
the difference in the ages of the girls, his words were met 
in the most unfriendly manner by the old maids. 

“Panna Seninska has shown to everybody that age makes 
no difference to her. Our late uncle and Pani Vinicka 
prove this, so we are not so very old for her,” said Joanna. 

“We are as much older than she as Tekla is younger, and 
I am not quite sure about that, either,” added the other 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 203 

sister. “Besides, the responsibility for this household rests 
on our shoulders.” 

But Martsian interposed, saying : 

“Father is better pleased with Tekla’s services, for he 
loves her best of all, which is quite natural. We thought 
of sending Panna Seninska together with them; but she 
is used to this house, and I think she feels better here. And 
as for our care, I am doing all in my power to see to it that 
she does not work too hard.” 

Saying this, he advanced to the young girl and was about 
to kiss her hand; but Panna Seninska withdrew quickly, 
frightened. Pan Serafin thought that they should not 
have taken Pani Vinicka away from the house, but he 
refrained from making this remark, not desiring to inter- 
fere with other people’s affairs. 

More than once he noticed sadness mingled with terror 
on Panna Seninska’s face ; but he was not surprised at this, 
for the girl’s lot was, indeed, a painful one. An orphan, 
without a single kindred soul, without her own roof over- 
head, compelled to live on the favor of people whom she 
disliked, and who were known for their wickedness through- 
out the neighborhood, she was forced to grieve there for the 
bright past and shudder before the future. Besides, no 
matter how a person may be suffering, there is the hope 
for a better future that brings solace; hut she had nothing 
to hope for, nothing to wait for. To-morrow must be the 
same as to-day ; her life a row of monotonous years of or- 
phanhood, solitude ; her bread the bread of charity. 

Pan Serafin often discussed this with Father Yoinowski, 
whom he saw now almost daily, for both of them were glad 
to talk about their young people. But Father Yoinowski 
merely shrugged his shoulders with compassion, forever 
praising the wisdom of the prelate Tvorkowski in hanging 
the threat of the will like a Damocleaji sword over the heads 


204 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


of the Kshepetskis, thus protecting the orphan at least 
from very had treatment. 

“What a clever man!” he said. “Sometimes I think 
that he has not even told us the whole truth, that the will 
is really in his hands, and that he will bring it out unex- 
pectedly.” 

“That has occurred to me, too; but why would he hide 
this ?” 

“I don’t know — perhaps to test human nature. I know 
one thing: Pongowski was a cautious man, and I can 
hardly believe that he should have made no provision of 
any kind long ago.” 

Soon the attention of the two old men was turned into 
another direction, for the Bukoyemskis came in, having 
walked all the way from Eadom. They arrived at Yed- 
linka one evening — with swords, it is true, but with tattered 
coats and torn boots; their faces were so careworn that if 
Serafin had not been expecting them he would have been 
frightened terribly and would have thought that they were 
bringing him news of his son’s death. 

The Bukoyemskis in turn began to embrace his knees, 
kiss his hands ; and he, looking at their wretchedness, struck 
himself on his thighs and exclaimed : 

“ Stanislav wrote me that something ill has befallen you, 
but this is terrible!” 

“We have sinned, benefactor!” replied Marek, striking 
himself on the chest. 

Following his example, the others repeated his words : 

“We have sinned!” “We have sinned!” “We have 
sinned!” 

“But tell me how ! What has happened? How is Stan- 
islav? He wrote me that he saved you. What has hap- 
pened ?” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. $0l> 

“Stanislav is well, and both he and Tachewski are shin- 
ing like two suns.” 

“Well, thank God! Thank God! Thank you for the 
good news. Have you no letters ?” 

“He wrote, but did not give us the letter. It may be 
lost.” 

“Are you hungry? How terrible you look! You really 
look as though you have risen from the grave !” 

“We are not hungry, for we are received well by every 
noble; but we are unfortunate.” 

“Sit down. You will drink some warm wine, and while 
it is being warmed up tell me what has happened to you. 
Where have you been ?” 

“In Warsaw,” replied Matvey. “It's a nasty town.” 

“How is that?” 

“The town is crowded with scoundrels and drunkards, 
and on Dluga Street, as well as in the Old Square, there 
is a dram-shop at every step.” 

“Well, what of it?” 

“Well, one of these scoundrels persuaded Lukash to play 
dice with him. May the pagans put the scoundrel on the 
rack first !” 

“He won?” 

“He won all that Lukash had in his pocket, and later, 
also, all that we had. We became desperate and wanted to 
win back ; but he won also a horse, together with the saddle 
and with our pistols. I swear to you, esteemed Pan Cipri- 
anowicz, I thought that Lukash would stab him with his 
knife. Well, what was to be done? We had to comfort 
our brother; so we sold another horse, that Lukash should 
not feel ashamed to travel on foot alone.” 

“I understand what happened.” 

“And when we sobered up we suffered anew, because two 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


206 

of our horses were gone. So we had to comfort ourselves 
again ” 

“You have comforted yourselves in this fashion till the 
fourth horse was gone?” 

“Yes. We have sinned ! We have sinned !” repeated the 
grief-stricken brothers. 

“Well, was that at least the end?” 

“Oh, no ! We came upon this scoundrel once more, and 
he scoffed at us. ‘That’s the way fools are fleeced/ he said ; 
‘but, as you are strong fellows, I will take you as my serv- 
ing-men, for I am joining a regiment.’ Lukash began to 
cry for being ridiculed in this manner; then he drew his 
sword and struck the scoundrel across the face. He fell. 
His friends came to his aid; we rushed in to help Lukash 
and a battle started. Suddenly the marshal’s guard ap- 
peared and went right at us. Then the others began to 
shout: ‘Gentlemen, here they trample upon liberty and 
offend the republic in our persons! Let us make peace!’ 
That is how it happened. God soon blessed us, and in an 
instant we wounded eight men — three of them mortally — 
and the others — some five of them — fled.” 

Pan Ciprianowicz clasped his head, while Marek went 
on: 

“Yes. How we know. God saw our innocence; but 
when people shouted that the fight was near the King’s 
palace, that it was a crime punishable with death, we were 
frightened and we took to our heels. They tried to catch 
us, but we recalled our younger days, gave our pursuers a 
good thrashing, and thus we saved ourselves. Stanislav 
gave us his servants’ horses, and our heads were saved with 
great difficulty even then, for we were pursued up to Sen- 
kotsin ; and if the horses had been bad our case would have 
ended there and then. Fortunately none of them knows 
our names, so they cannot sue us.” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


207 

A minute of silence ensued ; then Pan Serafin asked : 

“And where are Stanislav’s horses?” 

“We have sinned, benefactor; we have sinned!” 

Ciprianowicz began to pace the room with big strides. 

“Now I understand,” he said, “why you have brought me 
no letters from Stanislav. He wrote me that various mis- 
fortunes had befallen you, and he predicted your return to 
Yedlinka in need of money for horses and outfits ; but he 
could not predict how the whole matter would turn out.”' 

“That’s true, benefactor !” replied Yan. 

By this time heated wine was brought in, and the broth- 
ers turned to it very eagerly, for they were fatigued from 
the journey. 

They felt uneasy, because the host maintained silence 
as he paced the room, his face stem and morose. And 
Marek spoke again : 

“Esteemed Pan Ciprianowicz, you ask about Stanislav’s 
horses. Two of them broke down before we had reached 
droits, for we galloped all the time in a terrible storm. We 
sold them for a trifle to Jewish drivers, as they were of no 
use any longer. Besides, we had not a coin to our souls, 
for Stanislav had had no time to give us some money for 
the road. Then, strengthened somewhat by what we had, 
we went ahead, two men on a horse. You understand what 
that means ! Some noble would appear on the road, and 
immediately he would seize his sides, laughing. ‘What sort 
of Jerusalem nobles are these?’ he would ask. And we 
were so embittered by our unendurable misery that we were 
ready for anything. At Byalobzhegi we sold our last two 
horses, and to those that were surprised to see us travel on 
foot we said that we were doing it to fulfill a vow of honor. 
Benefactor, forgive us, like a father, for there are no more 
unfortunate people in the world than we are.” 

The youngest, Yan, moved by the recollection of past 


208 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


sufferings, and warmed up by the wine, raised his hands 
and exclaimed : 

“We are orphans of God ! What is there still left us in 
the world ?” 

“Nothing but brotherly love,” replied Marek. 

And they began to embrace one another, shedding bitter 
tears as they did so; then they all rushed over to Pan ’ 
Serafin. 

“Father,” they said, “our protector, don’t be angry at 
us. Make us one more loan for outfits ; we will return it 
to you, with the help of God. If you will not lend it to 
us, it is also well ; only do not be angry — only forgive us ! 
Forgive us at least in the name of the great love which we 
cherish for your Stanislav ; for I tell you the truth : let any 
man dare cast an evil glance at him and we will tear that 
man to pieces with our swords. Isn’t that so, dear brothers ? 
With our swords !” 

“Give him to us, the scoundrel !” exclaimed Matvey, Lu- 
kash and Yan in unison. 

Pan Ciprianowicz paused before them, put his hand on 
his forehead, and said : 

“I am angry, it is true, but I am more sad than angry. 
When I think that there are many like you in the republic 
my heart contracts with pain, and I ask myself: ‘Will our 
mother, having such children, be able to withstand the 
storms which threaten her ?’ You ask my forgiveness, you 
beg my pardon. But I swear to you by the living God, it 
is not a question here of me, or of my horses, but of some- 
thing a hundredfold more important — it is a question of 
the public welfare and of the future of the republic. And 
you do not understand this — you do not even think of this ; 
and there are thousands like you, which makes the sorrow 
all the more painful, the anxiety all the keener, the de- 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


209 

spair graver, in me as well as in any worthy citizen of this 
country.” 

“For God’s sake, benefactor, how have we sinned against 
our fatherland ?” 

“How? By lawlessness, licentiousness, wantonness and 
drunkenness. Oh ! our people regard such matters lightly ; 
they don’t see how the pest is spreading ; they don’t see how 
the walls of the once majestic structure are being cracked 
and how the ceiling is threatening to fall on our heads. 
Here we are on the eve of war ; no one knows whether the 
pagans will not attack us with all their forces ; and you — 
Christian warriors — what are you doing? The trumpets 
summon you to the battlefield, and your heads are filled 
with nothing but wine and licentiousness. With a light 
heart you stab the guardians of the law, which assures 
order of some kind. Who has made those laws? The 
nobles ! And who tramples them ? The nobles ! How will 
this country come out on the field of glory, this advance 
post of Christendom, since it is inhabited not by warriors, 
hut by drunkards ; not by citizens, but by licentious 
rioters ?” 

Here Pan Serafin fell silent, and, pressing his temples 
with his hands, again began to pace the room with long 
strides; and the brothers exchanged glances in amazement 
and confusion, for they had not expected to hear from him 
such words. 

But he heaved a deep sigh, and continued : 

“You have been called out to shed pagan blood, and, in- 
stead, you have shed Christian blood ; you have been called 
upon to defend the country, and yet you came out as her 
enemies — for it is self-evident that the greater the disorder 
in a fortress, the weaker is the fortress. Fortunately there 
are still worthy sons of the mother, but there are many 
legions of such people as you are, and, instead of freedom, 


210 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


riot is flourishing; instead of discipline, there is diso- 
bedience ; the treasury is plundered, diets are broken up ; 
there is no patriotism, but self-love and disorder every- 
where — from high to low there is lawlessness everywhere; 
and this makes my heart bleed, this makes me fear defeat 
and God's anger ■" 

“For heaven's sake ! must we hang ourselves ?” exclaimed 
Lukash. 

Pan Ciprianowicz was again pacing up and down the 
room, and continued to speak, addressing himself rather 
than the Bukoyemskis : 

“Throughout this republic there is one great feast, and 
an unknown hand is already writing on the wall : ‘Mane — 
Telcel — Fares!' Meanwhile, wine is flowing; later, blood 
and tears will flow. I am not the only one to see this; t 
am not the only one to predict it; but it is vain to put a 
candle before the eyes of the blind, or to sing songs before 
the deaf.” 

Silence followed. The brothers exchanged glances all 
the while; then they looked at Pan Serafin with growing 
confusion. Finally Lukash whispered: 

“May I be hanged if I understand anything!” 

“May I be hanged ” 

“May I be hanged ” 

“If we drank a couple of times ” 

“Keep quiet; don’t mention it.” 

“Let’s go home.” 

“Come.” 

“We bow to you, Pan Ciprianowicz,” said Marek, coming 
forward and bowing to Pan Serafin's knees. 

“AVhither?” 

“To Lesnichowka. God will help us ” 

“ So will I help you,” replied Pan Ciprianowicz. “ Only 
so many painful feelings have weighed upon my heart that 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


211 

1 felt like unburdening myself. Go upstairs, gentlemen, 
and rest yourself, and then you will learn of my decision.” 

An hour later he ordered to harness horses and started 
off to Father Voinowsld. 

The priest was no less grieved by the conduct of the 
Bukoyemskis, but at times he could not restrain himself 
from bursting into laughter ; for, having served many years 
in the army, he had had many experiences, and he now 
recalled them. One thing he could not forgive the Bu- 
koyemskis — that is, that they drank away their horses. 

“A soldier often runs riot,” he said, “but this is too 
much. To sell the horse is treason to the service. I will 
tell the Bukoyemskis that I would have been glad if the 
martial law had taken their heads off their shoulders — that 
would certainly have been a good lesson to other rioters; 
but I confess to you that I should have felt very sorry, for 
all the four brothers are fine fellows. I know something 
about men, and I can tell in advance what a man is good 
for. As for the Bukoyemskis, the pagans that will attack 
them breast to breast will fare ill. And what do you intend 
to do with them ?” 

“Of course, I will not leave them without help, but I am 
afraid that if I send them off alone the same thing might 
happen to them.” 

“True !” said the priest. 

“It has occurred to me to go together with them and 
turn them over straight to the captain of the regiment. 
Under the banners and the influence of discipline they will 
not allow themselves too much.” 

“A splendid idea! Take them to Cracow, for the regi- 
ments will assemble there. Perhaps I will also be able to 
get away with you, for we may be able to meet our boys 
there, and it will be livelier for us to come home.” 

Pan Ciprianowicz smiled at this, and said : 


212 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“You will return alone." 

“How is that?" 

“I will join the regiment myself." 

“You wish to enter the army?” asked Father Voinowski, 
in amazement. 

“Yes and no; for it is one thing to enter the ser- 
vice and choose it as a profession, and quite an- 
other to go on a single expedition. True, I am 
already old, but older men than I have entered the ranks 
at the sound of the trumpet. It is also true that I have 
sent my only son, but one cannot sacrifice enough for his 
country. Thus did my forefathers think, and our mother 
republic has rewarded them with the greatest honors at 
her disposal. And now I am ready to sacrifice for her my 
last copper coin, my last drop of blood. And if I should 
have to die on the battlefield — just think of it, esteemed 
Father! — what death is nobler, what happiness greater? 
Since we die but once, is it not a greater pleasure to die on 
the field of glory, beside my son, than to die in bed ; to die 
from a sword or a bullet, than from some sickness — and, 
in addition, defending the faith and the country against 
the pagans?" 

Pan Ciprianowiez was so moved by his own words that 
he outspread his hands and repeated : 

“God grant this ! God grant this !" 

And Father Yoinowski clasped him in his embrace and 
said : 

“May God grant that the republic have more citizens 
like you. There are not many so worthy as you, but surely 
there is none worthier. It is true that it is more becoming 
a noble to die on the battlefield than at home, on his bed, 
and thus did everybody think in former days; but now 
worse times have come. The country and the faith are one 
great altar, and man is a bit of myrrh predestined to be 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 213 

consumed for the glory of this altar. Yes, yes ; had times 
have set in. Then war is nothing new to you ?” 

Pan Serafin passed his hand over his breast. 

“I have more than one scar here from swords and bul- 
lets. : ” 

“I would also be better pleased to go with the regiments 
than to listen here to the old women’s sins. Some of them 
come and tell such nonsense, just as though they had come 
to shake out fleas at confession. When a peasant commits 
a sin, he has at least something to repent, and this is still 
more true of a soldier. Before I took this robe of a priest 
I was chaplain in the regiment of Pan Modlishewski. I 
recall this with pleasure. Between one absolution and an- 
other I often had to take up the gun or draw the sword. 
Yes ; there is at present a great need for chaplains, and I 
feel like enlisting; but my parish is large, I am over- 
crowded with work, my vicar is not very energetic; but 
worst of all is an old wound from a bullet, which would not 
allow me to stay more than an hour in the saddle.” 

"I should be happy to have such a comrade,” replied Pan 
Serafin; “but I understand that even without that wound 
you could not leave your parish.” 

“Well, I’ll see about that. This is the second day I have 
been out on horseback; I want to see how long I can stay 
in the saddle. Perhaps I shall manage the matter some- 
how. But who will take care of your household ?” 

“I have a forester, a plain man, but perfectly honest — 
almost a saint.” 

“I know. That’s the man who is followed by the beasts 
of the forest. People say that he is a wizard, but you know 
better. But isn’t he old and sickly ?” 

“I intend to take, also, Vilchopolski, who was before in 
the employ of Pongowski. Perhaps you remember him ? A 
young noble, who lost one leg, but a strong, courageous 


214 : 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


man. The Kshepetskis have sent him away because he 
would not stoop before them. He was at my house two 
days ago, offering his services, and to-day I shall surely 
settle with him. Pongowski was not particularly fond of 
him, because the young fellow allowed no one to treat him 
roughly, but Pongowski praised him for his faithfulness 
and activity.” 

"Is there any news at Belchonchki?” 

“I have not been there for a long time. Vilchopolski 
does not approve of the Kshepetskis, but I had no time to 
find out the details.” 

"I will go over there to-morrow, although they do not re- 
ceive me there very willingly, and then I will come to have 
a talk with the Bukoyemskis. I will make them come to 
confession, and will have them whipped. Let them give 
one another fifty lashes — that will do them good.” 

“Of course, it will do them good. Now I must bid you 
farewell, for I have to meet Vilchopolski.” 

Pan Ciprianowicz shortened his belt-strap, so that it 
would not be in the way when he got into the carriage, and 
a minute later he was already driving home to Yedlina, 
thinking on the way of the coming war; and he smiled at 
the thought that he would ride stirrup to stirrup with his 
son to fight against the pagans. Passing Belchonchki, he 
met Vilchopolski, seated in a wagon loaded with trunks and 
drawn by two horses. 

Pan Ciprianowicz asked him to get into his carriage, and 
said: 

“Are you leaving Belchonchki forever?” 

Vilchopolski pointed to his trunks, and, wishing to show 
that he was not an ignorant man, he said : 

“Yes, your grace, omnia mea mecum porto ” 

“Was there such a hurry?” 

“Not exactly; but I should have to go away from there 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


215 


anyway. Therefore I accept your conditions and am de- 
lighted to enter your service. In case you go away, as you 
have said to me, I will look after your household and your 
possessions faithfully.” 

Pan Serafin was pleased with the answer, and with the 
energetic, daring face of the young man, and after some 
meditation he said : 

“I do not doubt your faithfulness, for I know that you 
are a noble ; the only thing I fear is your inexperience, your 
incautiousness. In Yedlina one must sit down to watch 
it day and night, because it is situated almost in the woods, 
and in great forests there are usually plenty of robbers, who 
often attack houses.” 

“I wish no attack on Yedlina, but I should wish it for 
myself, so that I could convince you that I have both the 
courage and alertness. ,, 

“ To be frank, you look as though you had both,” replied 
Pan Ciprianowicz. 

He became silent, but after a minute’s pause he said : 

“ There is another important thing which you must take 
into consideration. Pan Pongowski is now before God’s 
judgment, and de mortuis nihil nisi bene; but everybody 
knows that he was hard on his people. Father Yoinowski 
had admonished him for that, which led to a difference be- 
tween them. There the peasants’ labor was not spared ; the 
trials were brief and the punishment severe. What is more, 
there was oppression, and the superintendents had become 
used to treating their men harshly. I wish to tell you that 
no such things go on in my household. There should be 
discipline, but it must be paternal, and I consider excessive 
severity as a sin against God and the country. Remember 
it well — the peasant is not cheese-curds, and you must not 
squeeze him too hard. I do not live by people’s tears, and 
I remember that all are equal before God.” 


216 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


A minute of silence ensued ; then Vilchopolski seized Pan 
Serafin’s hand and raised it to his lips. And the old noble 
said: 

“I see that you understand me.” 

“I understand your grace,” replied the young man; 
“and now I will tell you that more than a hundred times 
I had been on the point of telling Pongowski to his face 
to look for another manager. I was ready to leave his 
service, hut I could not ’’ 

“How is that? There is plenty of work to be found in 
the world.” 

Vilchopolski became confused, and stammered : 

“No — it so happened — I could not — and I delayed from 
day to day, and so I stayed. Besides, there was severity, 
and there was not.” 

“How is that?” 

“It is true that the people were forced to work hard, and 
no one could prevent that; hut as to lashing the people, I 
will say briefly, instead of whips straw ropes were used.” 

“Who was so merciful — you?” 

“No. I only preferred to carry out the angel’s orders 
rather than the devil’s.” 

“I understand; hut who was that angel?” 

“Panna Seninska.” 

“Ah ! So that’s the kind of girl she is !” 

“Exactly ; an angel ! She, too, was afraid of Pongowski, 
who began to pay attention to her words only toward the 
end. But she was loved there so much that the people pre- 
ferred to expose themselves to the old man’s anger rather 
than refuse her request.” 

“May God bless her for that! So, you conspired with 
her against Pongowski ?” 

“Yes, your grace.” 

“And that was not discovered?” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


217 

“It was discovered once, but I shielded the young lady. 
The old man whipped me himself; and I told him that if 
he did not place me on a rug and did not do the whipping 
himself, I, a noble, would set fire to his house and would 
shoot the master. And I would have kept my word, even 
though I had to join the bandits of the forest.” 

“I like you for that,” declared Pan Serafin. And Vil- 
chopolski continued: 

“Sometimes it was hard for me to get along with Pan 
Pongowski; but there was a cherub in the house, therefore 
I remained, though I had long wished to leave. Later, 
when the young lady grew up, the old man began to pay 
more attention to her, and toward the end he yielded to 
her in every way. Sometimes he found out that she had 
given grain to some poor people, or, as I have said, that she 
had substituted straw ropes for whips, and yet he pretended 
not to notice it. Finally he was so much ashamed that 
there was no longer any need for her to do these things 
secretly. She was a true protector of the people. May God 
bless her, as you have said, and at the same time may He 
also save her.” 

“Why do you say ‘save* her?” inquired Pan Cipriano- 
wicz. 

“Because it is worse for her now than it ever was.” 

“My God ! what do you mean ?” 

“ The old maids torture her, and young Kshepetski makes 
believe that he defends her ; but I know the reason why he 
does it. But he should rather be careful, for some one 
may shoot him down like a dog.” 

Night had long set in by this time; but it was a light 
night, for the full moon was out, and Pan Ciprianowicz 
noticed that the eyes of the young manager were flashing 
like those of a wolf. 


218 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“What do you know about that?” he asked, with curi- 
osity, 

“1 know that he removed me not only because I was in- 
dependent, but because I watched carefully and listened 
to what people were saying in the house. I left because I 
had to leave. But Belchonchki is not very far from here, 
and in case of need ” 

He fell silent, and on the road was heard the rustle of 
the pines as they were tossed by the night wind. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


219 ; 


CHAPTER XVII. 

The situation of Panna Seninska at Belehonchki was 
growing worse and worse daily. A long time had passed 
since Pan Pongowski had noticed that Martsian Kshepetski 
was gazing at the girl with too much of a “goafs look” 
and had driven him from the house. Later, Martsian saw 
her at the houses of neighbors, and sometimes at church, 
and always her beauty of springtime roused fresh desires 
in him. Now, when they lived under the same roof, when 
he saw her daily, he began to love her in his own way — that 
is, with beastlike desire. A change had taken place in his 
intentions. His first intent had been to bring the girl to 
shame, and then marry her only in case a will should be 
found in her favor. Now he was ready to go with her to 
the altar, if he could in any case have and possess her for- 
ever. Reason, which, when urged by desire, becomes its 
obedient assistant, told him, moreover, that a young lady 
bearing the name of Seninska was, although dowerless, a 
match of great moment. But even if reason had told him 
the opposite, Martsian would not have listened, for as each 
day appeared he lost some part of his self-mastery. He 
burnt, he raged ; and if, up to that time, he had restrained 
himself from violence, it was only because desire, even the 
most urgent, craves and yearns for a willing surrender, and 
is charmed with the thought of mutuality, in which it sees 
the highest pleasure, and deceives itself even when there is 
no cause whatever for doing so. Thus Kshepetski de- 
ceived himself, and pictured to himself that blissful mo- 


220 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


ment in which the young lady would throw herself into his 
embrace of her own accord. 

But, risking all, he felt that he might lose all ; and when 
he asked himself what would happen then, he was seized 
with terror; for laws of the republic guarding the honor 
of women were merciless, and around him were sabres of 
nobles by the hundred, which would flash above his head 
most unfailingly. But he felt, also, that the hour might 
come in which he would care for nothing, since in his in- 
solent, wild spirit there was hidden a craving for battle 
and a hunger for peril ; so not without a certain charm for 
him was the picture of a great throng of nobles besieging 
Belchonchki, the flame of conflagration above him, and an 
executioner, dressed in red, standing, axe in hand, some- 
where off in the mist in some distant city. 

And this desire, fear, and also a longing for battle tossed 
him from side to side, like three whirlwinds. At the same 
time, wishing to give exit to that storm and to cool that 
flood which was seething in his person as water in a caldron, 
he grew mad, wallowed in riot throughout village inns, rode 
down his horses, fell upon people, and drank to kill in 
every dram-shop of Radom, Pshitik and Yedlina. He col- 
lected around him a company of road-blockers, who did not 
go to the war because of evil fame or of poverty. He paid 
these men and tyrannized over them ; he did this, thinking 
that such a mob might be useful in the future, but he did 
not admit any man of them to confidence, and never men- 
tioned in their presence the name of the young lady. Once, 
when a certain Bish, from Bishov, of unknown situation, 
mentioned her in rude, obscene fashion, Martsian slashed 
the fellow across the face and drew blood from him. 

Martsian galloped home at daybreak at breakneck speed. 
But that mad riding sobered him thoroughly. Then, with- 
out undressing, he threw himself down on the horse-skin 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


221 

which covered the bed, and slept like a stone for some hours 
on it ; when he rose he put on his best garments, went then 
to the women, and strove to please the young lady, at whom 
he gazed all the time. His passion was roused all the more 
while he surveyed her with his eyes. And more than once, 
when he was alone with her, his lips were outstretched, his 
monstrously long arms quivered as though to resist his 
desire to embrace her; his voice became stifled, his words 
became insolent, vague and double-meaning; through them 
circled both flattery and an ill-restrained threatening. 

But the consciousness of her misfortune, the deep sor- 
row and grief developed in Panna Seninska. such a dig- 
nity as she had never had before, and she overawed Kshe- 
petski by her bearing. 

Once she had been a care-free maiden all day long. How 
she had learned to be silent, and her eyes had a resolute 
expression. So, though her heart trembled often from 
fear of Kshepetski, she restrained him by her calm glance 
and her silence; then he drew back as if fearing to offend 
some majesty. It is true that she seemed to him still more 
desirable, but also less accessible. 

She was, however, convinced that immense danger was 
threatening her, and she tried to avoid him, to be alone 
with him as little as possible, to turn away conversation 
from things which might lead to a declaration of love. 
Finally she had the boldness sometimes to indicate that 
she was not by any means abandoned and left to the will of 
fortune, as it seemed to him. 

She nevertheless avoided mentioning Yatzek Tachewski, 
understanding that, after what had passed between them, 
he could not be then and would never be a defense to her. 
Besides, she felt that every word about him would rouse 
hatred and anger in Martsian. But, having noticed that 
the Kshepetskis were afraid of the prelate, that they looked 
as if with secret dread upon him, she let it be understood 


222 


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frequently that she was under his special protection, which 
rose from a secret agreement which Pan Pongowski had 
concluded with him. The prelate, who from time to time 
visited the Kshepetskis, aided her notably, for he discussed 
politics with them and quoted subtle phrases in Latin; he 
reminded Martsian of various things which that young man 
might interpret as suited him. 

But the servants and the whole village loved the young 
lady. People considered the Kshepetskis as intruders and 
her as the genuine inheritor. All feared Martsian, except 
Vilchopolski. But even after the removal of that young 
noble the invisible care of the people surrounded the girl, 
and Martsian understood that the fear which he roused 
had its limit, beyond which for him would begin real dan- 
ger. He understood, also, that Vilchopolski, whose eyes 
had a daring expression, would not go far from Bel- 
chonchki, and that if the young lady should be in need of 
defense he would not draw back before anything; hence 
he confessed to himself that she was not really so deserted by 
every one as at first he had thought, and as on a time he had 
told his old father. a Who would take her part ? No one!” 
said he, when the old man commended him to remember 
the terrible punishment which the laws of the republic 
threatened for an attempt on a woman’s honor. 

Now he understood that there were such defenders. That 
raised one more obstacle, but obstacles and perils were only 
an incitement to a nature like Martsian’s. He deceived him- 
self yet, thinking that would move the young lady and make 
her love him ; but there came moments in which he saw, as 
clearly as a thing on the palm, that he was quite power- 
less ; and then he raged, as said the comrades of his revels ; 
and had it not been for a certain dull but strong and irre- 
sistible foreboding that if he had attacked the girl he 
should lose her forever, he would long ere that have set free 
the wild beast within him. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


223 

And on such occasions he drank without measure and 
memory. 

Meanwhile relations in Belchonchki had become unen- 
durable, darkened with bitterness and poison. The Kslie- 
petski old maids hated the young girl, not only because she 
was younger than they and more beautiful, but because 
people loved her, and because Martsian took her part for 
every reason, and even for no reason. They flamed up at 
last implacable hatred toward their brother; but, seeing 
that Anusya never complained, they tortured her all the 
more stubbornly. Once Agneshka burnt her with a red- 
hot shovel, as if by accident. Martsian, hearing of this 
through the servants, went to ask pardon of the young lady 
and beg her to seek his protection at all times; but he 
pushed up to her with such insistence, and fell to kissing 
her hand with such greed and so disgustingly, that she fled 
from him, unable to repress her abhorrence. Thereupon he 
broke into a rage and beat his sister so viciously that for 
two days she feigned illness. 

The two “old maids,” as they were called in Belchonchki, 
did not spare biting words on the young lady, or open in- 
ventions and humiliations, taking vengeance in this way 
for all they were forced to endure from their brother. But, 
out of hatred for Martsian, they warned her against him, 
censuring her at the same time for yielding to his wishes, 
for they saw that with nothing could they wound and offend 
her so painfully as with this implication. The house be- 
came a hell for her and every hour in it a torment. 

Hatred toward these people, who themselves hated one 
another, was poisoning even her heart. She began to think 
of a cloister; but she kept the thought in her bosom, for 
she knew that they would not let her enter one, and that 
by unfettering Martsian’s anger she would expose herself 
to great peril. Alarm and fear of danger dwelt in her 
continually, and produced the desire of death — a desire 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


22 4 

which she had never felt previously. Meanwhile each day 
added to her cup new drops of bitterness. Once, early in 
the morning, Agneshka surprised Martsian looking through 
the keyhole of the orphan’s chamber. He withdrew, grit- 
ting his teeth and threatening with his fist ; hut the "heir- 
ess” called her sister immediately, and the two, finding the 
girl still undressed, began to torment her, as usual. 

"You did know that he was standing there,” said the 
elder, "for the floor squeaks outside the door, and there is 
a noise when any one goes by ; but you must have been glad 
of his presence.” 

"Yes! he admired her charms, and she did not hide 
them,” interrupted Joanna. "Have you no fear of God, 
shameless creature ?” 

And they spat on her. 

Anusya’s heart revolted within her, for all measure was 
passed then. 

"Begone!” cried she, pointing to the door. 

But her face turned pale as linen and her eyes grew dim ; 
for a moment it seemed to her that she was flying into a 
bottomless abyss, then she fell into unconsciousness. 

When she recovered her face was wet from water which 
had been poured on her, and her breast was pinched in 
places. The faces of the old maids, bending over her, 
showed fear, but after a while they felt reassured when they 
saw that she was conscious. 

"Complain, complain !” said Joanna. "Your friend will 
defend you.” 

"And you will thank him in your own way !” 

But she set her teeth and said not a word. 

But Martsian knew all that happened upstairs, even with- 
out the complaint, for some hours later, from the chancery, 
where he had shut himself in with his sisters, came howls 
at which the whole household was terrified. 

In the afternoon, when old Kshepetski came, the two sis- 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


225 

ters fell with a scream to his knees, imploring him to re- 
move them from that den of wantonness and torture. But 
he hated the elder to the same degree that he loved the 
youngest one; so he not only took no pity on the ill-fated 
old maids, but he called for the knout and compelled them 
to stay there. 

The only being in that terrible house in whom Joanna 
and Agneshka might have found compassion, sympathy and 
even protection was Panna Seninska. But they preferred 
to torment her and mock her; for, with the exception of 
Tekla, that was a family in which each member did all in 
his or her power to poison the life and increase the misfor- 
tune of the others. But Panna Seninska was more afraid 
of Martsian’s love than of the hatred of his sisters ; and he 
forced himself more and more toward her, advancing more 
and more shamelessly, ever more insistent, and gazed at 
her more and more greedily, It had become clear that he 
was ceasing to. control himself, that passion held him in its 
full sway, and that he might give way at any moment. 

And, indeed, that moment came soon. 

Once, after warm weather had set in, Panna Seninska 
went at daybreak to bathe in the shady brook; but just as 
she was beginning to undress she noticed Martsian’s face 
on the opposite bank. She rushed away breathlessly; he 
pursued her, but, trying to jump across the water, he fell 
into it. He was barely able to climb out, and went home 
drenched to the very last thread of his clothing. Before 
dinner he had beaten a number of servants till the blood 
came; during dinner he said not a word to any person. 
Only at the end of the meal he said, addressing his sisters : 

“Leave me alone with Panna Seninska; I have to talk 
with her on matters of importance.” 

The sisters, on hearing this, looked at each other signifi- 
cantly, and the young lady grew pale from agitatiop; 
though he had long tried to seize every moment in which 


226 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


lie might be alone with her, he had never let himself ask 
for such a moment openly. Thus, when his sisters had 
gone, Martsian rose, looked at one door, then at the other, 
to convince himself that no one was listening, and then ad- 
vanced to the girl and said : 

“Give me your hand as a sign of consent.” 

She drew back both hands unconsciously and retreated. 

Martsian’s wish for calmness was evident, but he sprang 
forward twice on his bow-legs, for he could never abandon 
that habit, and said, with a voice full of effort : 

“You are unwilling. But to-day I came very near drown- 
ing for your sake. I beg your pardon for that fright, but 
it was not caused by any bad reason. Mad dogs began yes- 
terday to run between Yirombki and Belehonchki, and I 
took a gun to make sure of your safety.” 

Panna Seninska’s knees trembled under her a little; but 
she said, with good presence of mind, calmly : 

“I want no protection of which I should have to feel 
ashamed !” 

“I should like to defend you, not only now, but always — 
till death; not offending God, but with His holy blessing. 
Do you understand me ?” 

A moment of silence followed. Through the open win- 
dow came the sound of cutting wood, made by an old lame 
man attached to the kitchen. 

“I do not understand,” said the girl. 

“ That’s because you have no wish to understand,” replied 
Martsian. “You have long known that I cannot live with- 
out you. You are as essential to me as air is for breathing. 
To me you are dearer and more charming than anything in 
this world ! I cannot live without you ; I shall bum up, 
I shall be lost ! If I had not restrained myself I should 
have grabbed you long ago as a hawk grabs a dove. It 
grows dry in my throat, without you, as it does without 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 227 

water. I am all quivering; I cannot live. See, even 
now ” 

He stopped, for his teeth were chattering as if in a fever. 
Bending together still more, he caught at the arms of the 
chair with his bony fingers, as if fearing to fall, and panted 
some time very loudly. Then he continued : 

“You are poor — that is nothing! I have enough. I do 
not need fortune, but you. Do you wish to he the mistress 
of this house? You were to marry Pongowski; I am not 
worse than he. But do not say no ! — by God ! do not say 
it, for I cannot tell what will happen. You are charming ! 
You are mine!” 

Saying this, he knelt quickly, clasped her knees and 
pressed them toward his bosom. 

But, beyond even her own expectations, her fear van- 
ished in that terrible moment. The knightly blood began 
to act in her; readiness for battle to the last breath was 
roused in the woman. With all her force she began to push 
away his sweat-covered forehead, which was pressed against 
her knees at that moment. 

“No ! no ! I would rather die a thousand deaths !” 

“No !” 

Then he rose, pale-faced, his hair disheveled ; he quivered 
with cold rage. His mustaches stirred, and through them 
his teeth were seen; but still he controlled himself, still 
presence of mind did not desert him entirely. But when 
the girl advanced toward the door he blocked her way. 

“Is this true?” he asked, in a hoarse voice. “You will 
not have me? Repeat that once more to me, to my eyes ! 
Will you not have me?” 

“I will not ! And do not threaten, for I am not afraid.” 

“I do not threaten you, but I want to marry you. I beg 
you once more, bethink yourself ! By God, bethink your- 
self !” 

“In what am I to bethink myself? I am free, I have 


228 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


my will, for I am a noble, and I say before your eyes, 
never !” 

He came so near to her that his face almost touched hers, 
and he continued : 

“Then, perhaps, instead of being mistress, you will 
choose to carry wood to the kitchen ? Or do you not wish 
it ? How will it be, 0 noble lady ? To which of your es- 
tates will you go from here ? And, if you stay, whose bread 
will you eat here — on whose kindness will you live? In 
whose power will you find yourself? Whose bed, whose 
chamber is that in which you are sleeping? What will 
happen if I command to break the locks ? And you ask in 
what you are to bethink yourself ? It is your choice — shall 
it be marriage or no marriage?” 

“Scoundrel!” screamed Panna Seninska. 

Something unheard of happened at this moment. Seized 
with sudden fury, Kshepetski bellowed with a voice that 
was not human, and, seizing the girl by the hair, he began, 
with a certain wild and beastly pleasure, to beat her with- 
out mercy or memory. The longer he had mastered himself 
up to that time, the more terrible and the blinder did his 
madness seem now. He would have killed her, beyond 
doubt, had it not been that her cries for assistance attracted 
the servants into the room. First, the man cutting wood 
at the kitchen broke in with an axe through the window; 
after him came kitchen servants, the two Kshepetski sis- 
ters, the butler and two of Pan Pongowski’s old servitors. 

The butler — a noble from a distant village in Mazovia — 
was a man of rare strength, though rather aged ; he caught 
Martsian by the shoulders and drew them so mightily that 
the elbows almost met. 

“You wouldn’t do that, your grace!” exclaimed he. “It 
is a disgrace!” 

“Let me go !” roared Kshepetski. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


But the iron hands held him as in forge-tongs, and a 
stern, low voice was heard near his ear : 

“Compose yourself, your grace, or I will break your 
bones !” 

Meanwhile the sisters led, or rather carried, the young 
lady from the dining-room. 

The butler continued : 

“Come to the chancery, your grace, I beg you earnestly. ” 
And he began to push him as he would a child, while Mart- 
sian, with chattering teeth, moved on with his bow-legs, 
crying for the hangman and for ropes; but he could not 
resist, for since the first outburst he had grown so weak 
that he was unable even to stand unassisted. 

Thus, when the butler, in the chancery, threw him on 
the horse-skin with which the bed was covered, Martsian 
did not even try to rise; he lay there motionless, like the 
stump of a tree, breathing heavily, like an overworked 
horse. 

“Something to drink!” he cried. 

The butler opened the door, called a servant and, whis- 
pering some words, gave him keys. The servant returned 
with a pint glass and a bottle of brandy. 

The butler filled the glass to the brim, sniffed at it, and 
said, approaching Martsian: 

“Drink, your grace.” 

Kshepetski seized the glass with both hands, but they 
trembled so that the liquor dropped on his breast. Then 
the butler raised him on his bed and put the glass to his 
lips. 

Martsian drank, holding the glass greedily when the but- 
ler tried to remove it from his mouth. At last he drank 
all and fell backward. 

“Perhaps it is too much,” said the butler; “but you be- 
came very weak.” 

Martsian wished to answer, but he merely hissed in the 


230 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


air, like a man who has burned his lips with too hot a 
liquid. 

“Eh,” said the butler, “you owe me a good reward, for 
I have done you a great service. God preserve us ! if any- 
thing happened in such an affair, it is the axe and the exe- 
cutioner, not to mention that misfortune might happen 
here even now. The people love that young lady beyond 
measure ; and it will be difficult to hide what has happened 
from the prelate, though I will tell all to be silent. How 
do you feel?” 

Martsian gazed at him with dim eyes, still panting for 
breath. Once and again he tried to say something; then 
he suddenly closed his eyes, and a rattling came from his 
throat, as if the man were dying. 

“Sleep or die, you dirty dog!” growled the butler, as he 
looked at him. And he went out of the room. Half an 
hour later he knocked at the door of the young lady’s room, 
and, finding the two sisters with her, he said to them : 

“Ladies, perhaps you would look in a moment at the 
young lord in the chancery, for he has grown very feeble. 
But if he sleeps do not wake him.” 

Then, when he remained alone with Panna Seninska, he 
inclined to her knees and said : 

“Young lady, you must flee from here. All is ready.” 

Though broken and barely able to stand on her feet, she 
sprang up from her seat. 

“Good ! I am ready ! Save me !” 

“A wagon is waiting beyond the river. I will conduct 
you to it. To-night I will bring your clothing. Pan Kshe- 
petski is drunk and will lie like a log until morning. Only 
take a cloak and come. No one will stop us; have no fear.” 

“May God reward you ! may God reward you !” repeated 
Panna Seninska, feverishly. 

They went out through the garden to that gate by which 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 231 

Yatzek used to enter from Virombki. On the way the but- 
ler said to her : 

“ Vilchopolski arranged the matter long ago with the 
servants that if some attack upon you were attempted they 
were to set fire to the granary. Pan Kshepetski would run 
to the fire, and you would have time to escape through the 
garden to a place beyond the river, where a man was to 
wait with a wagon. But it is better this way, without start- 
ing the fire; for to set fire is a crime, under any circum- 
stances. Kshepetski, I say, will be like a stone until morn- 
ing, so there will be no pursuit.” 

“Where are we to go?” 

“To Pan Ciprianowicz ; there you will be safe. Vilchopol- 
ski is there; so are the Bukoyemskis and other foresters. 
Kshepetski will try to take you back, but he will not suc- 
ceed; and later on Pan Ciprianowicz will conduct you to 
Badom or to some other place, which will be decided upon 
by the priests. Here is the wagon. Fear no pursuit. It 
is not far to Yedlina, and, besides, God has given us a 
wonderful evening. I will bring your clothing to-night. 
If they don’t let me take it, I will not mind them. May 
the Holy Virgin, the guardian and protectress of orphans, 
protect you!” 

Saying this, he lifted her, like a child, into the wagon, 
and cried to the driver : 

“Go ahead!” 

It was growing dark by this time; the shadows of night 
were gathering rapidly, but from the last rays of the dying 
twilight the stars were rosy in the serene sky. The calm 
evening was filled with the odor of earth, of leaves and 
blossoming lilacs, and nightingales poured forth their 
songs, like a warm spring rain, over the garden, the alders 
and the entire neighborhood. 


232 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

One evening Pan Ciprianowicz was sitting on a bench 
in the front of his house, entertaining Father Voinowski, 
who had come after evening prayers to see him, and the 
four Bukoyemskis, who were staying then permanently at 
Yedlina. Before them stood a table, and on it were a 
pitcher of mead and glasses. They were listening to the 
soft murmur of the forest, drinking slowly, raising their 
eyes to the moonlit sky, and conversing of the war. 

“ Thanks to God and to your grace, we shall soon be 
ready for the road again,” said Matvey Bukoyemski. “What 
has happened is past. Even saints have sinned. One 
should, therefore, not be too exacting with men who cannot 
make a step without the grace of God. But when I look 
at the moon, and recall that the Turks worship it, my 
hands begin to itch as if mosquitoes had stung it. Well, 
may God hasten the war. Perhaps that will make us feel 
better.” 

The youngest Bukoyemski became thoughtful for a while. 

“Why is it, my reverend benefactor,” he asked, “that 
Turks worship the moon and bear it on their standard ?” 

“But do not dogs pray toward the moon, also?” asked 
the priest. 

“Of course; but why do the Turks worship it?” 

“By God ! why do they?” said the young man, looking at 
the priest with surprise. 

“But the moon is not to blame,” remarked the host; 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


233 

“and it is delightful to gaze at it when in the calm of night 
it paints the trees with its light, as if some one had cov- 
ered them with silver. I love greatly to sit alone on such 
a night, gaze at the sky, and marvel at God’s almightiness.” 

“Yes; at such times the soul soars on wings, as it were, 
to its Creator,” said the priest. “The merciful God created 
the moon as well as the sun, and that is an immense bene- 
faction. As to the sun — well, everything is visible in the 
daytime ; but if there were no moon, travelers would break 
their necks in the night; besides, in perfect darkness devil- 
ish wickedness would be much worse.” 

The priest became silent for a while and passed over the 
peaceful sky with his eyes, took a pinch of snuff, and added : 

“Fix this in your memories, gentlemen: a kind Provi- 
dence thinks not only of our needs, but also of our com- 
fort.” 

The rattle of wheels, which, in the stillness of the night, 
reached their ears very clearly, interrupted the conversa- 
tion. 

Pan Ciprianowicz rose from the bench and said : 

“God is sending some guest, for the whole household is 
here. I am curious to know who it may be.” 

“What if it is some one with news from our boys?” said 
the priest. 

All rose, and by that time a wagon drawn by two horses 
entered the open gate of the yard. 

“Some woman is in the wagon,” called out Lukash Bu- 
koyemski. “That is true.” 

The wagon passed around the yard and stopped at the 
entrance. Pan Serafin looked at the face of the woman, 
recognized it in the moonlight, and cried : 

“Panna Seninska!” 

And he almost lifted her out of the wagon. She bent 
to his knees and burst into sobs. 


234 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“An orphan has come to beg for a refuge and aid!” 

She clasped his knees and sobbed bitterly. Such great 
astonishment seized every man there that for a time no 
one uttered a syllable; at last Pan Ciprianowicz raised the 
guest and pressed her to his heart, and exclaimed : 

“While there is life in me I will be to you a father, or- 
phan. But what has happened? Have they driven you 
from Belchonchki ?” 

“Kshepetski has beaten me and threatened to dishonor 
me,” said she, in a barely audible voice. 

But Father Voinowski, who was very near, heard this 
answer. 

“Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews !” he cried, clutch- 
ing his white hair with both hands. 

The four Bukoyemskis gazed open-mouthed and wide- 
eyed, but understood nothing. Their hearts were moved 
at once, it is true, by the weeping of the orphan, but they 
considered that Panna Seninska had wrought grave injus- 
tice on Yatzek. They remembered, also, the teaching of 
Father Voinowski — that woman is the cause of all evil; so 
they looked at one another inquiringly, as if hoping that 
some clear idea would come, if not to one, to another of 
them. 

At last Marek said : 

“Well, there is Kshepetski for you. But, in any case, 
Martsian will get from us a ; won’t he?” 

And he felt at his left side ; and, following his example, 
the other three brothers began to feel for their sabres. 

Meanwhile Pan Ciprianowicz had led the young lady 
into the house and committed her to Pani Dzvonkowski, 
his housekeeper, a woman of sensitive heart and irrepressi- 
ble eloquence, and he told her that she was to take the ut- 
most care of Panna Seninska. He said that the house- 
keeper was to give her own bedropm to the lady, light the 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


235 

house, make a fire in the kitchen, find calming medicines 
and plasters for the bruises, and prepare heated wine and 
various dainties. He advised the young lady herself to lie 
down in bed until all was given to her, and to rest, leaving 
the story till the next day. 

But she wished to unburden her heart at once to the 
people with whom she had sought refuge. She wanted to 
cast out immediately from her soul all that anguish which 
had been gathering so long in it, and that misfortune, 
shame, humiliation and torture in which she had been liv- 
ing at Belchonchki. Shutting herself up with Father Yoi- 
nowski and Pan Ciprianowicz, she spoke as if to a confessor 
and a father. She confessed everything; she told them of 
her longing for Yatzek, and that she had consented to 
marry her guardian only because she had heard from the 
Bukoyemskis that Yatzek was to marry Panna Zbierzh- 
khowski. Finally, she also told them what her life had 
been in Belchonchki ; what she had endured there ; how the 
two sisters had tortured her. She related the ghastly ad- 
vances of Martsian, and the happenings of that day which 
were the cause of her flight from the house. 

And they seized their own heads while they were listen- 
ing. The hand of Father Yoinowski — an old soldier — went 
to his left side involuntarily, in the manner of the Bu- 
koyemskis, though for many a day he had not carried a 
weapon; but the kind Pan Serafin clasped the girl’s head 
and said to her : 

“Let him try to take you back! I had only a son, but 
now God has given me a daughter.” 

Father Yoinowski, who had been struck most by what she 
had said touching Yatzek, remembering all that had hap- 
pened, could not take in the position immediately. Hence 
he thought and thought, smoothed with his palm the whole 


236 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


length of his crown, which was milk-white, and then asked, 
finally : 

“Did you know of that letter which Pan Pongowski 
wrote to Yatzek ?” 

“I begged my guardian to write it.” 

“Then I understand nothing. Why did you do so?” 

“Because I wanted Yatzek to return to us.” 

“How could he return?” cried the priest, angrily. “The 
letter was such that, just because of it, Yatzek went away 
to the ends of the earth, broken-hearted, to forget and cast 
out of him that love which you, my young lady, trampled.” 

Her eyes blinked from amazement, and she folded her 
hands, as if praying. 

“My guardian told me that he had written a fatherly 
letter. 0 Holy Virgin ! what was there in it?” 

“Insults, contempt, derision over the man’s poverty and 
his honor. Do you understand?” 

Then from the girl’s breast was rent a shriek of such pain 
and sincerity that the honest heart of the priest quivered 
in him. He came over to her, removed the hands with 
which she had covered her face, and asked : 

“Then you did not know of this, and you wished Yatzek 
to return ?” 

“I did!” 

“In God’s name ! Why was that ?” 

Then tear-drops, like pearls, began again to fall from 
her closed lashes in abundance ; her face flushed for shame, 
she breathed with difficulty, and her heart throbbed like 
that of a captured bird. At last, after a great effort, she 
whispered : 

“Because I love him!” 

“For God’s sake, my child! is that possible?” cried out 
Father Voinowski. 

But his voice broke off, for tears were choking him, also. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


237 


He was seized at the same instant by delight, and immense 
compassion for the girl, and astonishment that “a woman” 
in this case was not the cause of all evil, but an innocent 
lamb on which so much suffering had fallen — God knew for 
what reason. He caught her in his arms and pressed her 
to his heart. 

“My child ! my child !” repeated he, time after time. 

The Bukoyemskis meanwhile had betaken themselves, with 
the glasses and pitcher, to the dining-room, had emptied 
the pitcher conscientiously to the bottom, and were wait- 
ing for the priest and Pan Serafin, in the hope that with 
their coming supper would be put on the table. 

They returned at last with moistened eyes and with agi- 
tated faces. Ciprianowicz breathed deeply, and said : 

“Pani Dzvonkowski is putting the poor girl to bed. In- 
deed, it is incredible. We, too, are to blame; but the Kshe- 
petskis — it is simply a shame and a disgrace ! We shall not 
let him go unpunished.” 

“Of course not !” answered Marek. “We will talk about 
this with the ‘Stump/ Oi, Oi !” 

“We are very sorry for her, but still I think that God 
punished her for Yatzek. Is that not true?” 

“You are a fool !” replied Father Yoinowski. 

“But how is that? Why?” 

But the old man, whose breast was filled with pity, began 
to talk quickly and passionately of the innocence and suf- 
fering of the girl, as if wishing in that way to make up for 
the injustice which he had permitted regarding her; but 
after a time all discussion was interrupted by the coming 
of Pani Dzvonkowski, who burst into the room like a bomb 
into a fortress. 

Pani Dzvonkowski’s face was as flooded with tears as if 
she had dipped it in a bucket of water, and right on the 
threshold she began to cry, outstretching her arms : 


238 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“Kind people, whoever believes in God — vengeance! jus- 
tice! My God! her dear shoulders are bruised, her snow- 
white shoulders; her hair torn out by the handful, her 
golden hair ! My dear dove ! my precious little flower ! my 
innocent lamb!” 

Matvey Bukoyemski, already excited by the narrative of 
Father Voinowski, roared; Marek, Lukash and Yaii joined 
him. 

The servants rushed into the dining-hall at this roaring 
and the dogs began to bark at the entrance. But Vilcho- 
polski, who returned from his night review of the fields, 
found the brothers in another mood. Their hair was on 
end, their eyes wide open with rage, their hands grasping 
their swords. 

“Blood!” shouted Lukash. 

“Give us that scoundrel !” 

“Kill him!” 

“Cut him to pieces with our swords!” 

And as one man they moved toward the door; but Pan 
Ciprianowicz blocked their way. 

“Halt!” he exclaimed; “he deserves not the sword, but 
the hangman !” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


239 


i 

CHAPTER XIX. 

It took Pan Serafin quite a long time to pacify the angry 
brothers. He explained to them that if they were to kill 
Martsian Kshepetski at once it would be the act of assas- 
sins, not that of nobles. 

“ First of all,” he said, “it is necessary to visit our neigh- 
bors ; to talk the matter over with the prelate ; to get public 
opinion on our side; to have the support of the clergy and 
the nobles; to obtain the testimony of the servants at Bel- 
chonchki ; then to take the case before a tribunal ; and only 
when the sentence is passed to stand behind it with weapons. 
If,” continued he, “you were to kill Martsian immediately, 
his father would not fail to report in all places that Panna 
Seninska had conspired with you to do that. By this her 
reputation would suffer; and the old man would summon 
you; and, instead of going to the war, you would have to 
drag around through tribunals. That is how it is.” 

“How so?” inquired Yan, with sorrow. “Are we to let 
the wrong done this dove go unpunished?” 

“But do you think,” said the priest, “that life will be 
pleasant for Martsian Kshepetski when he will be disgraced 
or stand under the axe of the headsman? What sort of life 
will be his when he will meet contempt on every side? 
That is a worse torment than a quick death would be, and I 
should not wish, for all the silver in the world, to be in his 
skin at this moment.” 

“But if he will wriggle out?” inquired Marek. “His 


240 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


father is an old trickster, who has won more than one doubt- 
ful lawsuit.” 

“If he wriggles out, Yatzek, on returning, will whisper 
a word in his ear. You do not know Yatzek yet. He has 
the eyes of a maiden, but it is safer to take the young cubs 
away from a she-bear than to trouble him unjustly.” 

At this Vilchopolski, till then only listening, spoke, in a 
stern voice : 

“Pan Kshepetski is as well as convicted, whether he 
awaits the return of Pan Tachewski or not. But there is 
another point : he will try to get back the young lady by 
force, and then ” 

“Then we shall see!” interrupted Pan Ciprianowicz. 

“But let him only try! let him only try!” said the Bu- 
koyemskis. 

“But, gentlemen,” said Vilchopolski, “you are going to 
the war.” 

“That will make no difference,” replied Father Voi- 
nowski. 

At this time the butler arrived with Panna Seninska’s 
wardrobe, which, as he had foreseen, he got only with great 
difficulty. The Kshepetski sisters tried to prevent him, and 
even wished to wake Martsian and keep the trunks in the 
mansion, but they could not wake him ; and the butler per- 
suaded them that they should not act thus, both in view 
of their own good and that of their brother, otherwise an 
action would be brought against them for robbery, and they 
would be summoned for damages before a tribunal. As 
women who do not know the law, they were frightened, and 
allowed him to take the trunks. The butler thought that 
Martsian would surely try to get back the young lady, but 
he did not think that the man would use violence imme- 
diately. 

“His father, who understands well the significance of 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


241 


raptus puellae , will restrain him from doing that. He 
knows nothing yet of what has happened, but from here 1 
will go to him directly and explain the whole matter, for 
two reasons: first, so that he may restrain Martsian; and 
second, because I do not wish to be in Belchonchki to-mor- 
row when Martsian wakes and learns that I have helped 
the young lady in fleeing. He would surely rush on me, 
and then to one of us something ugly might happen.” 

Pan Serafin and Father Voinowski praised the man’s 
prudence, and, finding that he was disposed to them, and 
experienced, a man who had seen the world, and who 
knew the law, they begged him to aid in examining the 
question. There were two councils then, one of these being 
formed of the four Bukoyemskis. 

Pan Ciprianowicz, knowing how best to restrain them 
from murderous intentions and detain them at home, sent 
a large bottle of good mead to the brothers ; this they were 
glad to besiege at the moment, and began to drink one an- 
other’s health. Their hearts were moved, and they remem- 
bered involuntarily the night when Panna Seninska crossed 
for the first time the threshold of that house there in Yed- 
lina. They now recalled how they had all fallen in love 
with her at first sight; how, through her, they had quar- 
reled, and then, in one voice, adjudged her to Stanislav, 
thus sacrificing their own feelings. 

At last Matvey drank his mead, supported his head with 
his palm, sighed, and said : 

“Yatzek was sitting that night in a tree like a squirrel. 
Who could have thought then that God had predestined 
her for him ?” 

“ And commanded us to drag on our existence in orphan- 
hood!” 

“Do you remember,” asked Lukash, “how the rooms were 
all bright from her presence? They would not have been 


♦the field of glory. 


242 

brighter from a hundred burning candles. And she would 
stand up, sit down or laugh. And when she looked at a 
man he felt as warm as if he had drunk heated wine that 
same instant. Let us take a glass now to drown our ter- 
rible sadness.” 

They drank again; then Matvey struck a blow with his 
fist on the table, and shouted : 

“Eh ! if she had not loved Yatzek!” 

“Then what?” asked Yan, angrily. “Do you think that 
she would fall in love with you right away ? Look at him — 
my dandy !” 

And they looked at each other with ill-feeling. But Lu- 
kash, though given greatly to quarrels, began now to pacify 
his brothers. 

“She is not for you, not for you, not for any of us,” said 
he. “Another will get her and take her to the altar.” 

“For us there is nothing but sorrow and tears/’ said 
Marek. 

“Then at least let us love one another. No one in this 
world loves us — no one !” 

“No one! no one!” repeated Lukash and Matvey, ming- 
ling their wine with their tears. 

“But she is sleeping up there !” added Yan, on a sudden. 

“She is sleeping, the poor little thing!” responded Lu- 
kash; “she is lying down like a flower cut by a sharp 
scythe, like a lamb torn by a villainous wolf. Brothers ! is 
there no man here who will take even a pull at the wolf ?” 

“Of course there is !” cried out Matvey, Marek and' Yan. 

And again they grew indignant, and the more they drank 
the oftener they gritted their teeth, and they struck the 
table with their fists. 

“I have an idea !” suddenly exclaimed the youngest. 

“ Tell it ! Have God in your heart !” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 243 

“You see, we have promised Pan Ciprianowicz not to 
cut up that ‘Stump/ Have we not promised?” 

“We have; but you had better tell what you have to say; 
ask no questions.” 

“I think we ought to take revenge for our young lady, 
anyway. Old Kshepetski will come here, as they said, to 
see if Pan Serafin will not give back the young lady. But 
we know that he will not give her; do we not?” 

“He will not; he will not !” 

“But don’t you think that Martsian will hurry to meet 
his father, to find out if he has succeeded?” 

“As God is holy, he will do so.” 

“On the road, half-way between Belchonchki and Yed- 
lina., there is a tar-pit near the roadside. How about wait- 
ing at that tar-pit for Martsian ?” 

“Well, but what for ?” 

“ Sh ! quiet !” 

“Sh!” 

And they began to look around through the room, though 
they knew that, save themselves, there was not a living soul 
in it; and then they whispered. They whispered long, 
now louder, now lower. At last their faces brightened, they 
finished drinking their wine, embraced one another and 
quietly went out of the room, one by one. 

Then they saddled their horses and led them by the bits 
from the courtyard to the road. Yan, though the youngest, 
took command, and said to his brothers : 

“Marek and I will start for the tar-pit at once, and you 
bring that barrel before daybreak.” 


m 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


CHAPTER XX. 

Old Kshepetski came to Yedlina in the afternoon of the 
next day, as the butler had predicted; but, beyond all ex- 
pectation, he looked so cheerful and so kind that Pan Cipri- 
anowiez, who had not quite finished his after-dinner nap, 
became wide-awake with astonishment at the sight of him. 
The old fox began to talk of neighborly kindness while he 
was yet on the threshold; he said that it would be a great 
joy to him in his old age if they visited each other more 
frequently; he thanked him for the cordial welcome, and 
only after a heap of courtesies did he approach the real 
question. 

“Neighbor and benefactor,” he said, “I have come to pay 
my respects, but, at the same time, as you must have di- 
vined, with a request which, in view of my old age, I have 
no doubt you will heed.” 

“I shall willingly grant any just request that you may 
make,” replied Pan Serafin. 

The old man rubbed his hands. 

“I knew it ! I knew it beforehand !” he said. “By God, 
it is agreeable to deal with a wise man ! The matter can 
be settled at once. I have said to my son : ‘Depend upon 
me. It is easy to arrange matters with Pan Ciprianowicz, 
for there is not a wiser and worthier man than he in the 
entire neighborhood/ ” 

“You flatter me too much.” 

“No, no; I say too little! But let us come to the ques- 
tion.” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


245 


“Very well.” 

Old Kshepetski maintained silence for a minute, as 
though searching his mind for adequate words. He merely 
moved his jaws so that his beard almost reached his nose. 
Finally he laughed merrily, placed the palm of his hand 
on Pan Serafin’s knee, and began : 

“Benefactor, you know that our goldfinch has flown from 
the cage?” 

“I know. It must have been scared away by the cat.” 

“Well, is it not a pleasure to speak to such people!” ex- 
claimed the old man again, rubbing his hands. “This is 
what I call wit! The prelate Tvorkowski himself would 
burst for envy, by God !” 

“I am listening.” 

“Well, then, to the point : we should like to take the gold- 
finch back.” 

“Why shouldn't you?” 

Pan Kshepetski began to move his jaws; ne was alarmed 
because the matter went too smoothly. Nevertheless, he 
clapped his hands and exclaimed, with feigned delight : 

“Well, then, the question is settled ! Would to God that 
there were more people like you in the world !” 

“As for me, the question is settled,” replied Pan Serafin. 
“But we must ask the bird whether she is willing to return, 
and to-day it is impossible even to ask her. Your son has 
choked her so that she is hardly breathing.” 

“Is she sick?” 

“She is sick abed.” 

“Is she not pretending?” 

Pan Ciprianowicz frowned at once, and replied : 

“Esteemed sir, let us speak seriously. Your son has 
treated Panna Seninska disgracefully, in a manner unbe- 
coming a man, unworthy of a noble; and you, too, have 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


216 

sinned greatly before God and men because you gave this 
orphan into the hands of such a shameless brute.” 

“ There is not even a fourth part of the truth in what she 

says !” 

“What! But you don’t know as yet what she has said; 
still you deny. It is not she who is speaking ; her bruises, 
the traces of the blows, which my housekeeper saw on her 
young body, tell the story. As for Martsian, all the ser- 
vants at Belchonchki saw his advances, and they are ready 
to testify before the tribunal, if necessary. Vilchopolski — 
he is now in my employ — will go to Badom to-day to tell 
the prelate what has happened.” 

“But you have promised to give me the girl.” 

“No. I merely said that I would not detain her. If 
she wishes to go back, very well. If she wishes to stay here, 
very well again. But do not ask me to refuse shelter and 
a morsel of bread to an orphan who has been treated so 
cruelly.” 

Old Kshepetski’s jaws began to move still faster. He 
was silent for about a minute ; then he said : 

“You are right, and yet you are wrong. To refuse shel- 
ter and a morsel of bread to an orphan would be a disgrace- 
ful act; but, as a judicious man, you must consider that 
it is one thing not to refuse hospitality, and quite another 
to stir one up against the authority of a father. I love my 
youngest daughter, Tekla, with all my heart, and yet it 
happens sometimes that I give her a slap. Well, what of 
that? If, after being punished by me, she flee to you, 
would not you allow me to take her? Would you leave if 
to her decision? Just think of it! What sort of order 
would there be in the world if women had their way ? Even 
a married woman, though she be old, must obey her husband 
and do as he orders; is an immature girl, then, to act 
against the will of her father or guardian ?” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 2±V 

“Panna Seninska is not your daughter, nor even your 
relative.” 

“But we inherited the guardianship over her from Pan 
Pongowski. If Pongowski had punished the girl, you 
would not have said a word in her defense. The same 
should be in this case, for I have intrusted the management 
of Belchonchki to my son. There must he some one to 
manage things there; there must be some one there that 
has the right to punish. I do not deny that Martsian, who 
is young and hot-headed, perhaps exceeded the limit, espe- 
cially since she was ungrateful to him. But that is my 
affair. I will look into the matter, judge it carefully and 
punish the guilty; but I will take the girl back; and I 
think — if you will allow me to say it — His Majesty the 
King himself would hardly have a right to hinder me in 
this matter.” 

“You speak as in a tribunal, and I do not deny that ap- 
parently you seem to be right. But that which seems and 
that which really is are two different things. I do not wish 
to hinder you in anything, but I tell you sincerely what the 
general opinion is. It is not at all a question of Panna 
Seninska with you, nor of guardianship over her. You 
suspect that there may be a will in the girl’s favor in the 
prelate*’s possession, and you are afraid lest Belchonchki 
should slip away from your hands together with her. Not 
long ago I heard one of our neighbors speak in this way: 
‘If not for that uncertainty they would have driven the 
orphan out of the house long ago, for the people have not 
God in their hearts/ I feel very embarrassed to say all 
this to you in my house, but I must, so that you may know 
everything.” 

A spark of anger flashed in old Kshepetski’s eyes; but 
he mastered himself, and answered, in a calm though some- 
what abrupt voice: 


218 


THE FIELD OF GLORY, 


“ The malice of people ! It is base malice, nothing more ; 
and, besides, it is stupidity. How do you make that out? 
Would we drive from the house the girl whom Martsian 
wants to marry? Consider it, for heaven’s sake! How 
will you reconcile these two things ?” 

“ They say that if Belchonchki is willed to her, Martsian 
will marry her ; if not, he will dishonor her. I am merely 
telling you what other people say; but I add from myself 
that your son really threatened to dishonor the girl. Of 
this I am convinced, and you, who know Martsian and his 
voluptuousness, will not deny that it was really so.” 

“I know a number of things, but I don’t know what you 
wish to say.”' 

“ What I wish to say? I wish to say what I have already 
said to you. If Panna Seninska is willing to go back to 
you, I have no right to detain her, nor to oppose your will ; 
but if she is not willing to go, then I will not drive her from 
my house, for I have promised her not to do it.” 

“It is not a question of your driving her out, but of your 
permitting me to take her, even as you would permit me 
to take my own daughter from your house. All I ask you 
is that you do not stand in our way.” 

“Then I will speak to you more clearly: I shall allow 
no violence in my house. I am the master of my own house, 
and you, having mentioned the King, ought to understand 
that His Majesty the King himself cannot take this right 
away from me.” 

When Pan Kshepetski heard this he pressed his hands 
together so firmly that his palms were pierced by his 
finger-nails ; and he said : 

“Violence! That is just what I fear. I, even if I ever 
had to act against people (and who of us has not come in 
contact with the wickedness of men?), have always acted 
according to the law, not by violence. It is an unjust 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 240 

proverb that says ‘the apple falls near its tree/ Sometimes 
it falls very far away. I wanted to settle this peacefully 
for your sake. You are helpless here in the forest, and 
Martsian — it is painful for a father to say it — Martsian 
has not taken after me. I am ashamed to say it, but I can- 
not vouch for him. The entire neighborhood fears his 
vehemence — and justly, for he will sometimes pay atten- 
tion to nothing in the world, and he has fifty swords at his 
command. You are helpless, I repeat it; you are in the 
forest — and I advise you to consider this — I fear it my- 
self.” 

At these words Pan Ciprianowicz rose and, advancing 
straight to Kshepetski, looked straight into his eyes. 

“You want to frighten me?” 

“I am afraid myself,” repeated the old man. 

Suddenly shouts resounded in the courtyard, coming 
from the direction of the kitchen and the granary. Both 
the host and the visitor rushed over to the open window, 
and they stood for a while as petrified with amazement. 
An unusual monster, unlike any creature on earth, was run- 
ning toward the courtyard with terrible speed, and after it 
came the four Bukoyemskis, riding on excited horses, shout- 
ing and brandishing whip-lashes. The monster rushed into 
the yard first, and behind it came the four brothers, like 
hell-hunters, and they began to chase it around the fence. 

“Jesus ! Mary !” cried Pan Ciprianowicz. 

And he ran out on the porch, followed by old Kshe- 
petski. 

Only there could they see more distinctly. The monster 
looked like an immense bird, but also like a man on horse- 
back, for it ran on four legs, with a figure sitting on it. 
But horse and rider were so covered with feathers that their 
heads looked like fleecy clouds. It was impossible to dis- 
cern the details, for the horse rushed along the fence, and 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


250 

the Bukoyemskis followed him closely, sparing no blows, 
which caused the feathers to fall to the ground or, like 
snowflakes, to rise in the air. 

The monster roared like a wounded bear ; the Bukoyem- 
skis also roared, and amidst the general tumult the voices 
of Pan Ciprianowicz and old Kshepetski were lost, though 
they shouted with all their might : 

“Stop! For God’s sake, stop!” 

But the riders kept rushing on and on, as though seized 
with madness, and thus they rode five times around the 
yard. But at the cry of Pan Serafin the servants ran out 
from the kitchen, from the stables and the bams, and be- 
gan to check the horses of the Bukoyemskis by seizing their 
bits and bridles. At last the four horses of the Bukoyemskis 
were brought to a standstill, but there was still great diffi- 
culty in stopping the feather-covered horse. Without a 
bridle, beaten with knouts, deafened and scared, the horse 
rose on its hind legs at the sight of the servants, or jumped 
aside with lightning-like rapidity, so that they caught him 
just as he was preparing to jump across the fence. One 
of the servants grasped the horse by the forelock, another 
by the nostrils, and several seized him by the mane. With 
such a weight the horse could not move, and he fell to his 
knees. He made another attempt to rush away; but soon 
he became restful, and a quiver shot through his body from 
time to time. 

Then the rider was taken off, and it was seen then that 
he had not been thrown off because his feet were tied firmly 
under the horse’s belly. They wiped his face, but under 
the feathers there was such a thick coat of tar on his face 
that it was impossible to recognize the features. The rider 
showed but faint signs of life, and only when he was car- 
ried to the porch did Pan Ciprianowicz recognize him. Pan 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 251 

Kshepetski also recognized him, and both cried out, terror- 
stricken : 

“Martsian!” 

“That’s the scoundrel !” said Matvey Buko} r emski, breath- 
ing with difficulty. “We have punished him for something, 
and have chased him over here so that Panna Seninska may 
know that there are still some tender souls in the world.” 

Pan Ciprianowicz clasped his head, and cried : 

“May the devil take you with your tender souls, you ac- 
cursed rascals !” 

Then, turning to Pani Dzvonkowski, who had come out 
with the others, and who was making the sign of the cross, 
he cried : 

“Pour vodka into his throat, let him come to himself, 
and let some one carry him to bed !” 

General confusion ensued. Some ran off to prepare a 
bed, others to boil some water, still others were removing 
the feathers from Martsian. Old Kshepetski aided them in 
this, gnashing his teeth and muttering : 

“Are you alive? Are you dead? Vengeance, vengeance !” 

Then he suddenly sprang from his place, rushed over to 
Pan Ciprianowicz, and, bending his fingers like the paw 
of a wild beast, and holding them up before his very eyes, 
he cried: 

“You were in the conspiracy! You have killed my son, 
you Armenian murderer !” 

Ciprianowicz turned very pale and clasped his sword; 
but he immediately recalled that he was the host and that 
Kshepetski was his guest ; so he dropped the hilt and, rais- 
ing two fingers, said, solemnly : 

“I swear by God that I knew nothing about this, and I 
am ready to swear to that by the sacred cross. Amen !” 

“We are witnesses!” blurted out Matvey Bukoyemski, 

Pan Ciprianowicz added : 


252 ) 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“ God has punished you because you have threatened me, 
as a defenseless old man, with the violent temper of your 
son !” 

“It’s a criminal offense !” roared the old man. “I’ll turn 
you over to the hangman ! I'll have your heads under the 
sword! Vengeance! Justice!” 

“See what you have done!” said Pan Ciprianowicz, ad- 
dressing the Bukoyemskis. 

“I said we should have run away at once!” declared 
Lukash. 

By this time Pani Dzvonkowski appeared with brandy, 
and she began to pour it into Martsian’s open mouth. 
Martsian coughed and immediately opened his eyes. 

The old man ran over to him. 

“Alive! alive!” he sobbed, in an outburst of wild joy. 

But Martsian could not answer as yet ; he lay like a large 
owl which, hit by a bullet, fell on its back and was con- 
vulsively twitching its outstretched wings. Nevertheless 
he was regaining consciousness, and with it also his mem- 
ory. His eyes wandered from his father’s face to that 
of Pan Serafin, and then they were fixed on the Bukoyem- 
skis. He looked so terrible now that if there had been the 
least place for fear in the hearts of the Bukoyemskis a 
shudder would have passed through their frames, from 
head to foot. 

But they advanced a step toward him, like four bulls 
which were ready to gore, and Matvey asked : 

“Well? Haven’t you had enough?” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


253 


CHAPTER XXI. 

A few hours later old Kshepetski took Martsian to Bel- 
chonchki, though the young man was as yet unable to stand 
and did not quite realize what had happened to him. The 
servants had washed him with great trouble, and had put 
on him fresh linen ; but after this had been done Martsian 
grew so weak that he fainted repeatedly, and thanks only 
to the medicine which Pani Dzvonkowski gave him he was 
brought back to consciousness. Pan Serafin advised to 
put him in bed and let him stay there until he recovered; 
but Pan Kshepetski, who was enraged, did not wish 
to be indebted to a man against whom he was plan- 
ning a lawsuit for harboring Panna Seninska; hence he 
had them put hay in a wagon, and, placing a rug, instead 
of a bed, under Martsian, he moved toward Belchonchki, 
hurling threats at the Bukoyemskis and also at Pan Ser- 
afin. While threatening vengeance, he was forced to ac- 
cept Pan SerafuTs assistance and borrow from him hay, 
clothing and linen; but, blinded by anger, he took no note 
of the strange situation. Pan Serafin himself had no mind 
whatever for laughter, since the act of the four brothers 
disturbed and concerned him very greatly. 

By this time came Father Yoinowski, who had been sum- 
moned by letter. The Bukoyemskis, greatly confused, were 
sitting in their rooms, not showing their noses; hence Pan 
Ciprianowicz had to tell all that had happened. The priest 
struck the skirt of his soutane from time to time as he lis- 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


m 

tened, but lie was not so grieved as Pan Serafin had ex- 
pected. 

“If Martsian dies,” he said, “then woe to the Bukoyem- 
skis; but if, as I think, he pulls through, I suppose that he 
will try to take private vengeance and will not start a law- 
suit.” 

“What makes you think so?” asked Pan Serafin. 

“It is not particularly pleasant to be made a laughing- 
stock before the country. At the same time his conduct 
toward Panna Seninska would be discovered. That would 
give him no enviable reputation. His life is not laudable, 
hence he should avoid the chance of letting witnesses tell 
in public what they know of him.” 

“That may be uae,” said Ciprianowicz, “but it is diffi- 
cult to forgive the Bukoyemskis such a nasty trick.” 

The priest only waved his hand. 

“The Bukoyemskis will always remain the Bukoyem- 
skis.” 

“How?” asked Pan Serafin, with astonishment. “I 
thought you would regard this more sternly.” 

“My dear Pan Ciprianowicz,” said the old man, “you 
have served in the army, but I have served longer, and 
have seen so many soldiers’ tricks during my time that 
nothing common can surprise me. It is bad that such 
things happen; I blame the Bukoyemskis; but I have seen 
worse things, especially as in this case the question was of 
an orphan. I will go still further and say sincerely that 
I would grieve more if Mart sian’s deed had gone unpun- 
ished. Think! We are old, but if we were young our 
hearts, too, would boil up over deeds such as his are. That 
is why I cannot blame the Bukoyemskis altogether.” 

“True, true; but, still, Martsian may not live until 
morning.” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 255 

“That is in the hands of God; hut you told me he was 
not wounded.” 

“He is not; there is only one blue mark; but he faints 
continually.” 

“ Oh, he will get over that ; he fainted from fatigue. But 
I must go to the Bukoyemskis and inquire how it hap- 
pened,” and he went off. 

The brothers received him cheerfully, for they hoped 
that he would take their part with Pan Serafin. They be- 
gan to quarrel at once as to who should give an account of 
what had happened, and stopped only when the priest gave 
Matvey the primacy. 

Matvey spoke as follows : 

“Father benefactor! God sees our innocence! When we 
learned from Pani Dzvonkowski that the poor little orphan 
had blue marks all over her body we came into this room 
in such grief that had it not been for the mead which Pan 
Serafin sent us in a pitcher our hearts would have burst, 
perhaps. And I say to your grace, we drank and shed tears 
— we drank and shed tears. And we had this in mind, too : 
that she was no common girl, but a young lady descended 
from senators. It is known to you, for example, that the 
higher blood a horse has, the thinner his skin is; slash a 
common drudge with a whip, he will hardly feel it; but 
strike a noble steed, and immediately a welt will come out 
of him. Think, Father benefactor, what a thin, tender 
skin such a dear little girl must have on her shoulders and 
all over her body — just like satin. Say yourself ” 

“What do I know of her skin?” cried Father Yoinowski, 
angrily. “Tell me better how you got hold of Martsian.” 

“We promised Pan Ciprianowicz on oath not to cut him 
in pieces; but we knew that old Kshepetski would come 
here, and we guessed immediately that Martsian would 
gallop out to meet him. So two of us took down to the tax- 


256 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


pit before daylight a great feather-bed, which we got from 
the wife of a forester. We picked out at the place a cask 
of thick tar and waited at the hut near the tar-pit. We saw 
old Kshepetski riding along ; very well, we let him ride ! 
We waited and waited, till we were tired of waiting; then 
we thought of going to Belchonchki. That moment a boy 
from the tar-pit told us that Martsian was coming up the 
road. We rode out and stopped in front of him. ‘We bow 
to you ! we bow to you ! But where are you bound for ?’ 
‘Straight ahead/ says he, ‘through the woods/ ‘But to 
whose harm ?’ ‘To harm or to profit/ says he, ‘get out of 
this!’ and then to the sword. But we seized him by the 
neck. ‘Oh, this cannot be/ cried he. In a flash we had 
him down from the horse, which Yan took by the bridle, 
lie began to scream, and kick, and bite ; but we, 
like a lightning flash, took him to the barrels, which 
stood one near the other, and said : ‘Oh, you scoundrel ! 
you will injure orphans, threaten young ladies with in- 
famy, disregard noble blood, beat an orphan on the shoul- 
ders, and think that no one will take the part of your vic- 
tim; learn now that there are tender hearts in the coun- 
try/ And that moment we thrust him into the tar, head 
downward. We raised him out, and again in with him. 
‘Learn that there are feeling souls !’ said we, and in with 
him then among the feathers. ‘Learn what chivalrous dar- 
ing means!’ and again we tossed him into the tar-barrel. 
‘Learn to know the Bukoyemskis/ We wanted to dip him 
once more, but the tar-boiler shouted that he would 
smother ; and, indeed, he was thickly coated, so that neither 
his nose nor his eyes were visible to any one. We put him 
then on the saddle and tied his feet firmly under the horse’s 
belly, so he could not fall off. We tarred the horse, too, 
and scattered feathers over him; took off the bridle and, 
lashing the horse with whips, we drove him ahead of us.” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


25Y 

“ And you drove him up here?” 

“We wished to cheer up the young lady a bit and show 
her our brotherly affection.” 

“ It was a fine way of cheering her up ! When she saw 
him through the window the fright nearly killed her.” 

“When she recovers she will think of us gratefully. Or- 
phans are always glad to know that somebody protects 
them.” 

“You have done her more harm than good. Who knows 
if the Kshepetskis will not take her away again?” 

“How is that? By dear God, we will not let them !” 

“But who will defend the girl when you are in prison?” 

When they heard this the brothers were greatly concerned 
and looked at one another with anxious eyes. But Lukash 
at last struck his forehead. 

“We will not be imprisoned,” said he, “for first we will 
go to the army ; but if it comes to that, if there is question 
of Panna Seninska’s safety, help will be found.” 

“Found ! Of course, it will !” cried out Marek. 

“What help?” inquired Father Voinowski. 

“We will challenge Martsian as soon as he recovers. He 
will not go alive out of our hands.” 

“But if he dies now?” 

“Then God will help us.” 

“But you will pay with your lives !” 

“Before that we will kill so many Turks that the Lord 
Jesus will reward us. Only let your grace take our part 
with Pan Ciprianowicz, for if Stanislav had been here he 
would have helped us give the bath to Martsian.” 

“But would not Yatzek bathe him?” inquired Matvey. 

“Yatzek will give him a better bath!” cried the priest, 
involuntarily. 

Pan Ciprianowicz appeared with a ready and weighty de- 


258 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


cision, for he said at once, in a tone admitting of no argu- 
ment : 

“I have been thinking of what we should do, and do you 
know what I have decided? We should go to Cracow with 
Panna Seninska. I know not if we shall see our boys in 
that city, for no one knows where the regiments are quar- 
tered, or what the order of their marching is. But we 
should place the girl under the protection of the King or 
the Queen, or, if that is not done, secure her in some clois- 
ter for a season. I have also determined, as you know, to 
take the field in my old age and serve with my son, or, if 
such be God’s will, to die with him. During our absence 
the girl would not be safe, even in Radom, under the pro- 
tection of the prelate Tvorkowski. These gentlemen” — 
here he pointed to the Bukoyemskis — “need to be under 
the hetman as soon as possible. It is unknown what might 
happen should they stay here. I have acquaintances at 
court — Pan Matchinski, Pan Glinski, Pan Grotus, and I 
can get their influence for the orphan. When that is done 
I will find Zbierzhkhowski’s regiment and go straight to my 
son, where I shall find Yatzek also. What do you think 
of this?” 

“By God!” cried Father Voinowski, “this is a splendid 
idea ! I will go with you, too, and I will go with you to 
Yatzek ! And as to Panna Seninska, all will be well ! The 
Sobieskis owe a great debt to the Seninskis. Besides, she 

will be out of danger in Cracow, and nearer For I am 

certain that Yatzek has not forgotten her, either; and after 
the war is over God only knows what will happen. In 
Radom they will give me a substitute for my parish, and 
I will go with you.” 

“All together,” roared the Bukoyemskis, with joy, “to 
Cracow!” 

“And to the field of glory !” concluded the priest. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


259 


CHAPTER XXII. 

The question as to the expedition was now decided defi- 
nitely, and Father Voinowski was searching for a vicar in 
Radom. In fact, the question had been settled before : the 
only new feature was to take Panna Seninska to Cracow 
in order to protect her against the Kshepetskis. Pan 
Serafin saw that the King, occupied as he was with the 
war, would have no time to talk about private complaints; 
but there remained the Queen, to whom access might be 
easy through notable dignitaries, related for the greater 
part to the Seninskis and the Tachewskis. 

There was also the danger that the Kshepetskis might- 
attack Yedlina, when Pan Serafin and the Bukoyemskis 
had gone, and seize on rich property in furniture and sil- 
ver. But Yilchopolski guaranteed that with the servants 
and the foresters he would defend the place and not let 
the Kshepetskis touch anything. Pan Serafin, however, 
took the silver to Radom and left it in one of the clois- 
ters, where he had left money before that in large sums, 
not wishing to keep it at home, near the edge of great 
forests. 

Meanwhile Pan Serafin kept an attentive ear toward 
Belchonchki, for much depended on that place. If Mart- 
sian died, the Bukoyemskis would have to face a grave 
charge; if he recovered, hope existed that there would not 
be even a lawsuit, since it was difficult to admit that the 
Kshepetskis would expose themselves willingly to ridicule. 
Pan Serafin considered as more likely that the old man 


260 the field of glory. 

would not leave him at peace about Panna Seninska; 
but he thought that if the orphan were in the care of the 
King the kernel of the lawsuit would be lost to the Kshe- 
petskis. He learned from the butler that the old man had 
gone to Radom and Lublin, but that he had remained there 
only for a short time. 

During the first week after his experience Martsian suf- 
fered grievously, and there was fear that the tar which he 
had swallowed might choke him or stop his intestines ; but 
the second week he grew better. He did not, it is true, 
leave the bed, for he had not strength to stand unassisted ; 
his bones pained him greatly and he was mortally weary; 
but he began to curse the Bukoyemskis and to take keen 
delight in projects of vengeance. In fact, after two weeks 
had passed, his “revelers from Radom” began to visit him : 
various gallows-birds, with sabres held up by hempen cords, 
men with holes in their boots and gaunt stomachs — thirsty 
and hungry at all hours. Meanwhile he counseled with 
these, and was plotting not only against the Bukoyemskis 
and Pan Serafin, but against the young lady, of whom he 
could not think without a gnashing of teeth ; and he devel- 
oped such monstrous inventions against her that his father 
forewarned him that they were of criminal nature. 

The echo of those plots and threats reached Yedlina 
and produced various impressions on different people. Pan 
Serafin, a brave man, but prudent, was somewhat alarmed 
by them, especially when he remembered that the enmity 
of these wicked and dangerous people might strike his son, 
also. Father Yoinowski, who had hotter blood in his veins, 
was keenly indignant, and prophesied that the Kshepetskis 
would meet a vile ending. Though entirely won over to 
the girl, he turned from time to time to Pan Ciprianowicz 
and then to the Bukoyemskis and said : 

“Who caused the Trojan war? Mulier! Who has al- 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 261 

ways been the cause of quarrels and battle ? A woman ! It 
is the same now ! Innocent or guilty — yet a woman !” 

But the Bukoyemskis regarded the danger which threat- 
ened every one from Martsian lightly, and even promised 
themselves various amusements because of it. They were 
warned, however, seriously from many sides. The Sulgo- 
stowskis, the Silnitskis, the Kokhanowskis and others, all 
greatly indignant at Martsian, came, one after the other, 
with tidings to Yedlina. They said that he was gathering 
a party, and even bandits of the forest. They offered as- 
sistance, but the brothers wished no assistance. 

Lukash, who spoke most frequently in the name of the 
other three, replied to Rafael Silnitski, who implored them 
to be careful : 

“Before the war it is worth while to practice and 
straighten ourselves out, for we have become somewhat 
rusty. Belchonchki is no fortress, so let Martsian see to 
his own safety; for who knows what may strike him? And 
if he wishes to repay us with ingratitude, let him try it !” 

Pan Silnitzki looked with astonishment at the four 
brothers and asked: 

“Repay with ingratitude? But I think he owes you no 
gratitude.” 

Lukash grew sincerely indignant. 

“How is that? Could we not have cut him to pieces? 
Who gave him life ? Pani Kshepetski once, but the second 
time our moderation. If he is going to count on it always, 
tell him that he is mistaken.” 

“And tell him that he will see Panna Seninska as much 
as he will see his own ears,” added Marek. 

“Why shouldn't he see his ears?” finished Yan. “It is 
not difficult for a man to see his ears if they are cut from 
him.” 

Here the conversation ended. The brothers repeated it 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


m 

to Paima Seninska, to calm her; which was superfluous, 
for the lady was not timid by nature. Besides, if she did 
fear the Kshepetskis, and especially Martsian, she felt that 
no danger threatened her in Yedlina. When, on the day 
after her arrival at Pan Serafln’s, she saw through the 
window Martsian in feathers, looking like some filthy beast, 
urged on with whips by the Bukoyemskis, in the first mo- 
ment of her dreadful surprise, which was mixed with 
amazement, and even compassion, she received so much 
confidence in the power of the brothers that she could 
not even imagine how any one could avoid fearing them. 
Martsian passed for a terrible person and a fighter, and 
see what they did with him! It is true that Yatzek, in 
her eyes, had grown now beyond common estimate alto- 
gether, and, in general, he appeared to her before the last 
parting from a side so mysterious that she did not know 
with what measure to esteem him. The remarks which 
were made about him by the Bukoyemskis themselves and 
Pan Serafin, with the words of the priest, who spoke of 
him oftenest, confirmed in her only wonder for that friend 
of her childhood, who had been so near to her once, but 
was now so remote and incomprehensible. There was now 
a longing and that sweet feeling toward Yatzek, which she 
had confessed to the priest in a moment of excitement and 
then again concealed in the depth of her heart, as a pearl is 
concealed in a mussel shell. 

Nevertheless, there was in her soul an unshakable convic- 
tion that she would meet him in the near future. As she had 
torn herself from the house of the Kshepetskis, as she felt 
herself under the mighty protection of well-wishing people, 
that became the joyand the root of her existence. Itrestored 
her to health with contentment, and she bloomed afresh, 
as a flower blooms in springtime. That Yedlina mansion, 
which had been hitherto so serious, was now bright from 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


263 

her presence. She had taken possession of Pani Dzvon- 
kowski, of Pan Serafin, and of the Bukoyemskis. The 
whole house was filled with her, and wherever she showed 
her little, confident nose and her young, gladsome eyes 
delight and smiles followed. But she feared Father Voi- 
nowski a little, since it seemed to her that he held in his 
hands her fate, and also Yatzek’s. Hence she looked upon 
him with a certain submissiveness. But with his compas- 
sionate heart, which, in general, was so warm for all God’s 
creation, he loved her sincerely ; and, besides, when he 
learned to know her more closely, he esteemed her pure 
spirit increasingly ; though at times he called her a jaybird 
and a squirrel, because, as he said, she was poking her nose 
everywhere. 

Yet after that first confession they spoke no more of 
Yatzek, just as if by agreement. Both felt it too delicate 
a matter. Pan Serafin made no mention of Yatzek to her 
in the presence of people, but when no one was with them 
he was not ceremonious on that point ; and once, when she 
asked if he would meet his son quickly in Cracow, he an- 
swered with a question : “ And would you not like to meet 
some one there, also ?” 

He thought that she would answer jestingly ; but a shade 
of sadness came over her bright face, and she said, 
seriously : 

“I should be glad to beg the forgiveness of him I have 
injured as soon as is possible.” 

Pan Serafin looked at her with emotion; but soon an- 
other idea must have flashed through his mind, for he 
stroked her rosy cheek and said : 

“Eh ! the King himself could not reward better than you 
can.” 

When she heard this she lowered her eyes, and she looked 
wonderful there, blushing like the dawn of the morning. 


264 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 




CHAPTER XXIII. 

Preparations for the departure went on briskly. Strong 
and sober men were selected as attendants. Arms, horses, 
wagons and carriages were ready. They had not forgotten 
to take along dogs, which in time of marching went 
under the wagons, and at places of rest used to hunt 
hares and foxes. The multitude of supplies and the com- 
plicated preparations astonished Panna Seninska, who had 
not supposed that a military expedition required such de- 
tails; and, thinking that all that trouble was, perhaps, 
taken especially for her safety, she inquired of Pan Serafin 
whether it was really so. He, as a wise man of experience, 
replied : 

“It is certain that I bear you in mind, for I think we 
shall not leave here without meeting some foul trick from 
Martsian. You have heard that he has summoned his 
bandits, with whom he is bargaining and drinking. We 
should be disgraced if we were to let any man snatch you 
away from us. What will be, will be; but, though we had 
to fall one on another, we must take you to Cracow unin- 
jured.” 

She kissed his hand, saying that she was not worthy to 
cause them this peril ; but he interrupted her by saying : 

“We should not dare to appear before men unless we 
did this; and matters, moreover, are such that each coin- 
cides with the other. It is not enough to set out for a war ; 
one must prepare for it wisely. You are astonished that 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


265 

we have three or four horses, each man of us, as well a3 
attendants; but you must know that in war horses are the 
main question. Many of them die on the way, crossing 
rivers and marshes, or from various other accidents. And 
then what ? If you buy in haste a new, horse, it may be 
so bad and unruly that it will fail at the critical moment. 
Though my son and Tachewski took plenty of excellent 
horses along, we have decided to bring a new horse to each 
of them. Father Voinowski, than whom there is no better 
expert on horses, bought cheaply from old Pan Podlodowski 
such a Turkish steed for Yatzek that the hetman himself 
would not refuse to appear on him.” 

“Which horse is for your son?” inquired the young lady. 

Pan Ciprianowicz looked at her, shook his head, smiled 
and said : 

“Well, Father Voinowski is right in his judgment of 
woman. However pretty and kind she may be, there is 
always plenty of cunning about her. You ask which horse 
is for Stanislav. Well, I answer in this way: Yatzek’s 
horse is that bay horse with a star on his forehead and a 
white spot on his left hind leg.” • 

“You are annoying me !” exclaimed the young lady; and, 
rubbing against him like a kitten, she turned and then van- 
ished. But that same day the pith of small loaves of bread 
and some salt disappeared from the dishes, and Lukash 
the next day beheld something curious : At the well in the 
courtyard the bay horse had his nose in the white hands of 
Panna Seninska, and when he was led, later on, to the 
stable, he looked back at her time after time, expressing 
with neighs his yearning. Lukash could not learn at the 
time the cause of this “confidence,” for he was intent on 
loading a wagon; so it was some time after midday that 
lie approached the young lady and said, with eyes glowing 
from emotion ; 


266 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“Have you noticed one thing ?” 

“What?” asked the girl. 

“That even a beast knows a real charm.” 

Panna Seninska forgot that he had seen her in the morn- 
ing, and, noting a look of delight in his eyes, she raised 
her beautiful brows with astonishment, and said : 

“What are you thinking about?” 

“What?” repeated Lukash. “Yatzek’s horse!” 

“Oh, the horse !” 

Saying this, she burst into laughter and ran from the 
porch to her room. He remained there, astonished and 
somewhat confused, understanding neither why she had 
run from him nor why she had suddenly burst out laugh- 
ing. 

Another week passed, and preparations were nearing 
completion ; but somehow Pan Ciprianowicz was not urgent 
for the journey. He postponed it from day to day, im- 
proved various details, complained of the heat, and at last 
he fell under the influence of some alarming foreboding. 
The girl was eager to be out on the journey. The Bukoyem- 
skis were growing uneasy, and at length Father Yoinowski 
agreed that further delay was a loss of time without reason. 
But Pan Serafin argued : 

“I have news that the King has not gone yet to Cracow 
and will not go soon. Meantime the troops are to meet 
there, but only in part, and no one knows the day of this 
meeting. I ordered Stanislav to send me a man every 
month, with a letter giving details as to where his regi- 
ment is quartered, when it is to start, and under whose 
orders. Seven weeks have passed and I have not heard 
anything from him. A letter may come to me now at any 
moment, hence my delay; and I am alarmed somewhat. 
Think not that we must find our young men at Cracow in 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 267 

every case. It may happen that they will not be there 
at all.” 

“How is that?” inquired Panna Seninska, uneasily. 

“The regiments need not necessarily march through 
Cracow. Wherever a regiment is, it can move straight 
from there; but where Pan Zbierzhkhowski may be at this 
time I know not. lie may have been sent to the boundary 
of Silesia, or to the army of the grand hetman, who is com- 
ing from Russia. Regiments are often hurried from place 
to place, to train them in marching. In the course of 
seven w r eeks various orders may have come, of which Stan- 
islav should have informed me; and, as he has not done it, 
I feel uneasy; there are frequent disputes and also duels 
in the camps. Perhaps something has happened. But, 
even if all is well, we ought to know where Stanislav’s 
regiment is and where it is bound for.” 

All became gloomy at these words save Father Voinow- 
ski, who said : 

“A regiment is not a needle, nor is it a button, which, if 
torn from a coat and lost in grass, is found with much diffi- 
culty. Do not worry; we shall learn of them in Cracow 
more quickly than we could here in Yedlina.” 

“But on the road we may miss the letter.” 

“Leave an order with Vilchopolski to send it after us. 
That is the right way. Meanwhile, in Cracow we will find 
the safest place possible for the lady, and then our minds 
will be free when we start for the second time.” 

“True! true!” 

“This is my advice, then: If no letter comes till to- 
morrow, we will start in the cool of the evening for Radom, 
then farther to Keletz, Yendzhej^ev and Mekhow.” 

“Perhaps it would be better to start out the day after, at 
daybreak, so as not to pass in the night through those for- 


' THE FIELD OF GLORY. 

ests ; and thus we might avoid an ambush, if the Kshepet- 
skis should make one.” 

“Oh, that’s all right ! Better go in the cool !” said Mat- 
vey Bukoyemski. “If they attack, they will do so as well 
in the day as at night, and now the nights are light.” 

He rubbed his hands gleefully, and the three others fol- 
lowed his example. 

But Father Voinowski thought otherwise. He doubted 
that the Ivshepetskis would venture to make an open attack. 

“Martsian might, perhaps, venture, but the old man is 
too sensible for that ; he knows too well what such a deed 
may mean, and how much men have suffered for raptus 
puellae! Besides, against the power of our party Mart- 
sian could reckon on victory, while, on the other hand, he 
could reckon on vengeance from Yatzek and Stanislav.” 

The delight of the Bukoyemskis was spoiled by the 
priest’s words; but they were soothed by Vilchopolski, who 
began to argue, and strike the floor with his w r ooden leg, 
and shake his head, saying : 

“Even if you meet no danger up to Radom, to Keletz, or 
even to Mekhow, I advise you to neglect no precaution till 
you reach the gates of Cracow ; for there are forests every- 
where along the road, and I know Martsian better than 
you do. I am almost convinced that that devil is now plan- 
ning some mischief.” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


269 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

At last the day of departure arrived. The party left 
Yedlina at daybreak, under a cloudless sky. Besides the 
leather-covered carriage intended for Panna Seninska and 
Pani Dzvonkowski, and Father Voinowski, in case his old 
wound should not allow him to stay in the saddle, there 
were three well-laden wagons, each of which was drawn by 
four horses ; and each had three men, including the driver. 
Behind Pan Serafin Ciprianowicz six men on horseback, 
dressed in turquoise-colored clothes, led reserve horses. The 
priest had two attendants, each of the Bukoyemskis also 
two ; only the forester rode alone, guarding the wagon with 
the trunks. Thus thirty-four men, well armed with swords 
and with muskets, started out on the long journey. It is 
true that, in case of an attack, some of the men could not 
participate in the defense, for they would have to guard the 
wagons and the horses ; but the Bukoyemskis felt convinced 
that even with such numbers they could go through the 
whole world, and that it would not be well for even a 
stronger party to attack them. Their hearts flared up with 
so much joy that they could hardly stay in their saddles. 
There was a time when they showed their better side in a 
skirmish with Tartars and Cossacks, but that was of no 
consequence; and later, when they had settled down in the 
forest, their youth passed away in watching the other for- 
esters and in killing bears, which they were to preserve for 
the King, and in sprees at Kozenitsi, Radom and Pshitik. 


270 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


And only now, when they all rode stirrup to stirrup, to the 
great war against the immense forces of the Turks, they 
felt that this was their true destination, that the life they 
had led before was a shameless and worthless life, and that 
only now they were starting to live the real and useful life 
for which God the Father had created the Polish nobles, 
God the Son redeemed them, and the Holy Ghost sancti- 
fied them. They could neither think this out clearly, nor 
could they express it in words, for they had never been too 
strong in those things; but they felt like shouting for joy. 
It seemed to them the party was not moving fast enough. 
They felt like letting their horses rush away like a whirl- 
wind toward that great destination, to the great war be- 
tween the Poles and the pagans, to the triumph of the 
cross over the crescent, to glorious death, to eternal glory ! 
They felt that they had become loftier, purer, worthier and 
nobler in their nobility. They scarcely thought now of 
Martsian Kshepetski and his rioting company, of ambushes 
and barriers. All this now seemed to them so small, so 
insignificant. 

They felt that if whole legions now stood in their way 
they would have ridden across them like a tempest; they 
would have crossed over their corpses and would have re- 
sumed their journey. Their inborn leonine passions were 
aroused, and their warlike, knightly blood now began to 
play within them so vigorously that if they had been or- 
dered all alone to attack the whole bodyguard of the Sultan 
they would not have hesitated one moment to charge. 

Similar feelings — and founded, moreover, on old recol- 
lections — filled the hearts of Pan Ciprianowicz and Father 
Voinowski. The priest had passed the best years of his 
youth on the field with either a sword or a spear in his 
hand. He remembered a whole series of defeats and vic- 
tories. He remembered the terrible revolt of Khmelnitski, 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


271 

Zholtiya Vodi, Korsun, Pilavtsi, tlie famous Zbazazh and 
the great battle at Berestechko. He remembered the 
Swedish invasion and the endless attacks of the Rakochi. 
lie had been in Denmark when the triumphant people, not 
satisfied with the massacre and expulsion of the Swedes 
from their country, pursued them with the invincible regi- 
ments of Charnetski to the distant sea ; he had participated 
in the battle in which Khovanski and Dolgoruki were de- 
feated ; he had known the most famous men and the great- 
est knights ; he had been a pupil of the immortal Volodiew- 
ski ; he had loved war, battles and bloodshed ; but all that 
had lasted only until his heart was broken with personal 
misfortune, and he became a priest. Since then he had 
changed completely, and when, facing the people at church, 
he said, “ Peace be with you !” he believed that he was utter- 
ing the greatest commandment of Christ, and that any 
war, being opposed to that commandment, was a sin against 
mercy and a stain on Christian nations. But there was 
one exception — a war against Turkey. “ God put the Polish 
people on horseback and, turning their breasts eastward, 
defined their mission and showed them His will,” he said. 
“He knew wherefore He had chosen us and put others be- 
hind our shoulders ; thus, if we wish to fulfill our mission 
as well as His command properly, we must stand like a rock 
against this sea and break the waves with our breasts.” 
And Father Yoinowski believed that God had purposely 
placed on the throne a king who, while yet a hetman, had 
shed so much pagan blood, so that his hand might deliver 
the last blow to those pagan forces and avert ruin from 
Christendom forever. It seemed to him that now the great 
day had come for the fulfillment of God’s will, and he 
looked upon this war as upon a great crusade; and he was 
glad that age, toil and his wounds had not bent him to the 


272 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


ground completely, that he was still able to participate in 
this war. 

He would still be able to go around the regiments; he, 
an old soldier of Christ, would spur his horse and, with a 
crucifix in his hand, would rush into the thick of the battle, 
with so much faith in his heart that right after him and 
the crucifix a thousand spears would pierce the bodies of 
the pagans, a thousand swords would strike their skulls. 

Finally, thoughts of another kind came to his mind, like 
an echo of the earlier thoughts. He could hold the crucifix 
in his left hand and a sword in his right hand. As a priest 
he could not lift the sword against Christian warriors, but 
against the Turks ! That is not a sin, it is really not a sin ! 
He would show the younger men how to extinguish the 
pagan lights, how to mow down the pagan warriors; he 
would show them what kind of warriors there had been 
in former days. 

People had wondered at his skill on more than one battle- 
field ; perhaps His Majesty the King might even now notice 
his skill and admire it. And this thought filled him with 
such intense joy that he lost the thread in his rosary: 
“Holy Mary! — Strike, kill! — Rejoice, merciful Mary! — 
At them ! — The Lord is with thee ! — Slay !” But he recov- 
ered at last. “Tfu! The devil take it! Earthly glory 
is as smoke! What fly has bitten me? Non nobis , non 
nobis ! Sed nomine Tuo l” And he passed the beads 
through his fingers more attentively. 

Pan Serafin was also saying the morning prayers; but 
from time to time he looked now at the priest, now at the 
young lady, now at the Bukoyemskis, who were riding at 
their sides; now at the trees and the meadows, bathed in 
dew. Finally, when he had said the last prayer, he turned 
to the old man, heaved a deep sigh, and said : 

“It seems to me that you are filled with good hopes.” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


273 


“And you, too,” replied the priest. 

“True. Before starting there is always some care and 
trouble; hut no sooner does the free wind begin to blow 
around you than your heart grows light. I remember how 
we were marching to Khotim, some ten years ago ; all the 
people were seized with such eagerness that, though it was in 
the cold November weather, more than one removed his coat 
because of the heat that came direct from the heart. Well, 
God, who gave us then a great victory, will give it to us 
again, for the leader is the same, and the valor has not 
subsided. I have heard people praise the Swedish army, 
the French, even the Germans ; but against Turks there are 
no better soldiers than ours.” 

“I have heard His Majesty the King say the same,” re- 
plied the priest. “ ‘The Germans/ said he, ‘stand well 
under fire, but when they attack they close their eyes ; but 
I am satisfied with my soldiers. If they meet the enemy 
nose to nose, they are sure to sweep everything before them 
as no cavalry in the world/ And that is true. Lord Jesus 
has rewarded us liberally with this power — not only the 
nobles, but even the peasants. Take our field infantry, for 
instance : when they spit on their palms and take up their 
muskets, the best of the Yanichars cannot hold their 
ground against them. Both of us have seen it more than 
once.” 

“If God will only keep Stanislav and Yatzek in good 
health I am sure that they will participate in the first 
battle against the Turks. But against whom, do you think, 
will the Turks direct their greatest forces ?” 

“In my opinion, against the Emperor, for he has long 
been waging war against them, and has encouraged the 
Hungarian rebels; but the Turkish army is big enough to 
be divided into two, or even three, and therefore we cannot 
tell where we will have a general engagement.” 


274 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“That is undoubtedly the reason why no general camp 
has been organized, and the regiments go from one place 
to another, according to reports. Some regiments, under 
Yablonowski’s command, are stationed near Trembovli; 
others are concentrating toward Cracow ; still others, wher- 
ever they are needed. I do not know where the commander 
of Yolinia is at present, nor where ZbierzhkhowskFs regi- 
ment is stationed. Sometimes it seems to me that Stanis- 
lav has not written all this time because, perhaps, his regi- 
ment is moving toward these parts.” 

“If the regiment is ordered to go to Cracow, it will 
surely march near us; it all depends on where it was before. 
Perhaps we will hear some news at Radom. Our first night 
halt will be at Radom, will it not?” 

“Yes. I should like to have the prelate see the girl and 
give us definite advice. Besides, he will give us letters to 
Cracow with regard to her affairs.” 

The conversation stopped for a minute ; then Pan Cipri- 
anowicz lifted his eyes to Father Yoinowski again and 
asked : 

“But what do you think will happen should she meet 
Yatzek in Cracow?” 

“I don't know whether they will meet or not. All will 
happen as God pleases. Yatzek might re-establish himself 
in his estate by marriage, while she is as poor as a Turkish 
saint. Wealth by itself is nonsense, but when it is a ques- 
tion of the splendor of a family ” 

“But she is also a descendant of a famous family. The 
girl is like pure gold ; and, besides, there is not the slight- 
est doubt that they love each other madly.” 

“Oh, madly!” 

It was clear that he did not feel like speaking on this 
subject, for he immediately turned the conversation into a 
different direction. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


275 

“Let us better bear in mind that a robber is hankering 
after that gold. Do you remember what Volchopolski 
said ?” 

Pan Serafin cast a glance at the forest, and said: 

“The Kshepetskis will not dare! They will not dare! 
There is quite a number of us here, and see how calm it is 
around us. I wanted the girl to ride in the carriage for 
safety, but she begged to be allowed to ride on horseback. 
She is not afraid of anything.” 

“Well, she has good blood,” muttered the priest. “But 
1 notice that she masters you completely.” 

“Eh! And you, too, somewhat, it seems,” replied Cipri- 
anowicz ; “but, as for me, I own it openly. When she begs 
me for something, especially when she blinks her eyes, how 
can I refuse her? Women have various schemes. Have 
you noticed that she has a peculiar way of blinking and 
folding her arms ? When we come near Belchonchki I will 
tell her to go into the carriage; but now she wishes to be 
on horseback, because it is healthier, she says.” 

“It is surely healthier in weather like this.” 

“Just look how rosy she is, just like a strawberry !” 

“What matters it to me whether she is rosy or not?” re- 
plied the priest. “But we have a wonderful day.” 

And, indeed, the weather was wonderful; the morning 
fresh and dewy. Single drops on the pine-needles gleamed 
in rainbow colors, like diamonds. The forest of hazel-trees 
was bright in the morning sunshine. Orioles were merrily 
twittering. There was an odor of pine in the air, and the 
whole earth seemed to smile with gladness to the sun in 
the azure, cloudless sky. 

Thus moving ahead, they finally reached the same tar- 
pit near which the Bukoyemskis had caught Martsian 
Kshepetski not long ago. The fear that some people might 
be lurking in ambush there proved groundless. Near the' 


276 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


well were only two peasants’ wagons, laden with tar. The 
drivers stood near their wretched little horses and ate bread 
and cheese ; but when they caught sight of the approaching 
party they hid away their food; when asked whether they 
had seen armed men around there, they answered that a 
mounted man had been waiting there since morning, and 
that as soon as he noticed the approaching party from afar 
he galloped away at full speed in the opposite direction. 

Pan Serafin became alarmed when he heard this. It 
seemed to him that the man must have been sent out by 
Kshepetski as a scout; and, as the leader, he doubled his 
watchfulness. He ordered two attendants to ride to both 
sides of the road, to examine the forest. He sent two 
others ahead, with instructions to fire their muskets if they 
should see an armed band, and to return to the wagons as 
fast as possible. But an hour passed without any alarm. 
The party moved forward slowly, looking carefully on all 
sides; but all was quiet in the forest. Only the orioles 
whistled as before, and the hammering of the little black- 
smiths of the forest, the woodpeckers, resounded. At last 
the party came out on a wide plain, where Pan Cipriano- 
wicz and the priest insisted that Panna Seninska dismount 
and enter the carriage, for they were nearing Belchonchki. 
The house could already be seen among the trees. Panna 
Seninska looked with emotion at the house in which so 
many of the best as well as the worst years of her life had 
been spent. She wanted to see Virombki, but the Bel- 
chonchki linden-trees obstructed it from view completely. 
And somehow it came to her mind that perhaps she would 
never again see those places. She sighed softly and grew 
sad. 

The Bukoyemskis looked at the house and at the village 
with a challenging air; but deep calm reigned everywhere. 
On the wide pastures, which were bathed in sunshine, cows 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


277 ' 

and sheep were grazing, guarded by dogs and groups of 
children; here and there were flocks of geese; and, were it 
not for the summer heat, one might have mistaken them 
for patches of snow on the hill slopes. Otherwise the region 
seemed empty. 

Pan Ciprianowicz, who lacked not the daring of a knight, 
wishing to show the Kshepetskis that he regarded them 
with contempt, ordered to halt there, to give the horses a 
rest. And the whole party stopped by the fields of wheat, 
which was slightly rustling and bending to the ground, 
amidst the silence of the plain, which was broken from time 
to time by the snorting of horses. 

“Your health ! Your health !” answered the servants. 

Yan, the youngest of the Bukoyemskis, was displeased 
with this calm. He turned toward the mansion and, flour- 
ishing his hands, began to call the absent Kshepetskis : 

“Well, come out here, you dogs! Show us your phiz, 
Stump; we’ll cut you to pieces with our swords !” 

Then he leaned over to the carriage. 

“You see, young lady,” he said, “neither Martsian, with 
his band, nor the tramps of the forest are in a hurry to 
attack us now !” 

“Do the tramps also attack?” asked the girl. 

“ Of course ! but not us. There are many of them in the 
forests all along the road to Cracow. If His Majesty the 
King would pardon all their crimes, there would be enough 
tramps around here to form two regiments.” 

“I should prefer to meet these tramps than Pan Mart- 
sian Kshepetski’s company. The people in Belchonchki 
told terrible stories about his company. I have never heard 
of tramps attacking a house.” 

“That’s because a bandit has the same sense as a wolf. 
You must remember that a wolf never kills sheep or other 
cattle in the neighborhood where his lair is.” 


278 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“Of course! That’s true!” declared the other brothers. 

Yan, encouraged by the praise, continued : 

“A bandit will never attack a village or a house near the 
forest where he lives, for the simple reason that if the 
neighboring people should take up arms and start in pur- 
suit after him, they, being familiar with the forest and all 
its secret places, would catch him easily. That is why the 
tramps make attacks in distant places or hold up travelers.” 

“And they are not afraid?” 

“They are not afraid of God; why should they be afraid 
of men ?” 

But Panna Seninska was now thinking of something 
else, and when Pan Serafin came alongside of the carriage 
she blinked and said, imploringly : 

“Why should I sit in the carriage, since no attack 
threatens us? Allow me to go on horseback, please!” 

“What for?” replied Pan Serafin. “The sun is high; it 
would burn your face. I know that somebody would not 
like that.” 

When the girl heard this she quickly withdrew to the 
depth of the carriage, and Pan Ciprianowicz turned to the 
brothers : 

“Am I not telling the truth?” 

But the brothers, who were not at all quick-witted, did 
not understand what he was referring to, and they began 
to inquire : 

“Who’s that? Who’s that?” 

Pan Ciprianowicz merely shrugged his shoulders, and 
replied: 

“The Bishop of Cracow, the Emperor of Germany and 
the King of France.” 

Then he gave a sign, and the party started. 

They passed Belchonchki, and moved along the tilled 
fields, the meadow-s and the pastures, bordered at the hori- 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


279 

zon by a blue strip of forest. They halted at Yedlina for 
another rest, and the local brewers, the citizens and the 
peasants took leave of Father Voinowski, and the party 
reached Radom only toward evening. 

Martsian Kshepetski had not shown the slightest sign 
of life. Pan Ciprianowicz learned that Martsian had been 
drinking heavily with his company at Radom on the pre- 
vious day, but that they had returned home at night. All 
heaved a sigh of relief, supposing that no danger threat- 
ened them any longer on the journey. 

The prelate Tvorkowski gave them letters to Father 
Gatski, to the Vice-Chancellor Gninski, who, it was known, 
was getting together a regiment at his own cost, and to 
Pan Matchinski. The prelate was very glad to see Panna 
Seninska, Father Voinowski and Pan Ciprianowicz, whom 
he appreciated for his knowledge of Latin and of many 
quotations and various maxims. When told of Martsian 
KshepetskPs threats, he was not at all alarmed, and paid 
no special attention to them, thinking that if he really had 
intentions to attack the party, the attack would have been 
made near Kozeniz, which was a spot more favorable for 
such purpose than the forests along the road from Radom 
to Keletz. “The young fellow will not attack you,” he 
said to Ciprianowicz, “and the old man will bring no lawsuit 
against you, for then he would have to deal with me, and 
I have some weapons against him besides Pongowski’swill.” 
The prelate kept the guests all day at his house, and let 
them start only toward evening. As all obstacles had ap- 
parently been removed, Pan Ciprianowicz agreed to travel 
at night, all the more so since the sun was unbearably hot 
in the daytime. 

The first few miles, however, they passed while it was still 
light. Beginning at the River Oronka, which formed 
swamps here and there, immense pine forests, surrounding 
Oronsk, Sukhaya and Krogulchya, extended to Shidlowets, 


280 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


to Mzochow and Bzin, all the way down to Keletz. The 
party was moving ahead slowly, for the old road lay now 
over sandy hillocks, over muddy water-gauges and swamps. 
These places enjoyed no good repute, but Pan Ciprianowicz, 
confident of his strength, paid no attention to that; and 
he was satisfied that they were traveling while the people 
were not troubled by the heat and the horses were not an- 
noyed by the flies. 

Father Voinowski began to sing the evening prayer, 
others joined him, and thus they continued until the earth 
was completely shrouded in darkness. The priest, the Bu- 
koyemskis and Pan Serafin talked for a while; then they 
began to doze, and soon they were sound asleep. 

They heard neither the exclamations of the drivers, nor 
the snorting of the horses, nor the splashing sounds pro- 
duced by the hoofs of the horses striking the mud as they 
were passing the reed-covered swamps, which they had 
reached by midnight. The sleepers were awakened by the 
shouting of the man who was riding in advance : 

"Stop ! stop !” 

All opened their eyes. The Bukoyemskis straightened 
themselves in their saddles and galloped ahead briskly. 

"What’s the matter there ?” 

"The road is blocked! There’s a ditch across it, and a 
breastwork beyond the ditch.” 

The swords of the Bukoyemskis were drawn as fast as 
lightning and flashed in the air. 

"To arms ! An ambuscade !” 

In an instant Pan Ciprianowicz appeared before the am- 
buscade, and all became clear to him — it was impossible 
to make a mistake. A broad ditch had been dug, and be- 
yond the ditch lay a heap of pine-trees. The people who 
had thus blocked the road had evidently intended to let 
the party in on the ridge, whence there was no escape on 
either side, and then attack from the rear. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 281 

“Hold your guns and muskets ready !” thundered Father 
Voinowski. “They are coming !” 

And, indeed, some hundred feet away, dark, strange, 
square figures, unlike human beings, appeared on the ridge 
and were advancing quickly to the wagons. 

“Fire!” commanded the priest. 

A report resounded, and bright strips of fire rent the 
curtain of the darkness. Of the attacking group, only 
one sank to the ground, while the others were now running 
faster toward the wagons, and behind them denser groups 
were now seen more distinctly. 

Experienced by many years in matters of war, Father 
Voinowski understood at once that the people were carry- 
ing bundles of reeds, willows or straw, and that was why 
the first discharge had such insignificant results. 

“Fire! In turns! Four at a time! At their knees!” 
he cried. 

Two of the attendants had their guns loaded with grape- 
shot. Thus, taking their places beside the others, they fired 
at the knees of the attacking band. An outcry of pain 
resounded, and this time a whole row of bundles sank down 
on the muddy ridge; but the men in the rows behind 
jumped over those that had fallen and advanced still 
nearer to the wagons. 

“Fire !” came the third command. 

Another report was heard, and this time with still more 
effect, for the advance was stopped for a minute, and the 
crowd was apparently confused. 

The priest gained ever more courage, for he understood 
that the attackers had outwitted themselves in their choice 
of a position. It is true that in case of victory not a living 
soul would escape from their hands, and that must have 
been their intention; but, on the other hand, being unable 
to attack the party from all sides, they had to attack only 
from the ridgeway — that is, in narrow rows — which made 


282 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


defense quite easy. Thus five or six courageous and strong 
men could ward off the attack all night long. 

The attackers also began to fire, but their guns must have 
been poor, for they caused but little damage. At their first 
discharge they struck only one horse and wounded a stable- 
man in the hip. Then the Bukoyemskis begged to be per- 
mitted to charge alone against the enemy, guaranteeing 
that they would sweep them off right and left into the 
swamps, and those that would not be swept off would be 
trampled in the mud. But the priest, leaving this proposi- 
tion for the last, did not allow them to attack, but ordered 
them, as expert marksmen, to shoot from a distance, and 
Pan Ciprianowicz was to keep a sharp watch on the ditch 
and the breastwork. 

“If they attack us from that side/’ he said, “they can’t 
do anything to us. They will not get us cheaply, anyway.” 

Then he hurried over to the carriage, in which were 
Panna Seninska and Pani Dzvonkowski. They were both 
praying softly, without great fear. 

“Never mind!” said the priest. “Have no fear!” 

“We have no fear,” replied the girl; “but I should like to 
be on horseback.” 

Her words were interrupted by a volley. The confused 
bandits were again pushing onward with a strange, blind 
daring, for it was clear that they could hardly succeed on 
that side. 

“If not for the women,” thought the priest, “we might 
attack them ourselves.” 

And he was considering whether he should not allow the 
Bukoyemskis to charge with four strong and courageous at- 
tendants; but at this moment he cast a glance on the side 
and shuddered. 

Crowds appeared on both sides, and, leaping from hillock 
to hillock, or over the bundles of reeds and branches which 
they had spread before them, they were advancing to the 
wagons. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


283 

The priest immediately turned to them two ranks of 
attendants ; but at the same time he realized the extent of 
the threatening danger. Now their party seemed sur- 
rounded on the three sides. True, the attendants had been 
carefully chosen; but they were not sufficient in number, 
especially since some of them had to guard the reserve 
horses. It was becoming clear that after the first fire, 
which would do but little damage to the numerous attack- 
ers, before the guns could be loaded again there would be 
a hand-to-hand struggle, in which the weaker side would 
be defeated. 

There was but one thing left — to break through along 
the ridgeway; that is, to leave the wagons, to order the 
Bukoyemskis to sweep everything before them, and to start 
ahead, leaving the women in the center, among the horses. 
So, while they were shooting right and left, the priest or- 
dered the ladies to mount their horses, and he formed ranks 
for an attack. The Bukoyemskis were in the first rank, 
behind them six attendants, then Panna Seninska and Pani 
Dzvonkowski; at the sides the priest and Pan Serafin, be- 
hind them eight attendants, four in a row. After the at- 
tack and retreat from the ridgeway the old man intended 
to reach the first village, collect all the peasants and return 
for the wagons left behind. 

But he hesitated a while, and only when the attackers 
came within several feet of the sides of the ridgeway, and 
when wild cries resounded from behind the breastwork, he 
commanded : 

“ Strike ! ” 

“Strike !” roared the Bukoyemskis, and, like a hurricane 
which destroys all in its way, they rushed forward. On 
reaching the enemy the horses rose on their hind legs and 
cut through the dense crowd, crushing the bandits, pushing 
them off into the swamps, sweeping away entire rows of 
people, and working with their swords mercilessly, unceas- 


284 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


ingly. Cries rent the air, and the splashing of bodies as 
they fell into the swamps below was heard, while they 
pressed forward, waving their hands like a windmill driven 
by a strong w r ind. Some of the bandits leaped into the 
swamps to save themselves from the terrible riders, others 
met them with forks and hunting-poles. Heavy clubs were 
raised against the Bukoyemskis; but the Bukoyemskis 
again made their horses rise on their hind legs, and, 
smashing everything before them, they rode on like a tem- 
pest over a young forest. 

And were it not for the narrowness of the road, and for 
the fact that the wounded did not know wdiere to escape, 
that the people behind pushed those in front of them, the 
Bukoyemskis would undoubtedly have passed the whole 
ridgeway. But, as more than one bandit preferred battle 
to drowning, the battle continued for some time, and even 
grew fiercer. The bandits became desperately enraged. 
They were now fighting not merely for plunder, or for the 
sake of capturing somebody, but out of furious madness. 
When the cries subsided for a moment the gnashing of 
teeth and cursing were heard. At last the onrush of the 
Bukoyemskis was checked. Then it occurred to them that 
perhaps they would have to die. And when they suddenly 
heard before them the tramping of horses and loud exclama- 
tions in the neighboring thicket, the four brothers felt sure 
that the moment of death was nearing, and they began to 
flourish their swords more desperately, so as not to sell 
life too cheaply. 

Suddenly something unusual happened. Voices behind 
the bandits shouted, “Strike!” and scores of swords flashed 
in the moonlight. Certain horsemen began to slash and 
cut the attackers from the rear, and the bandits, taken un- 
awares, were seized with indescribable terror. The ridgeway 
was now closed to them, and there was no escape for them 
except in the swamps. Only very few offered resistance 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


m 

now; the others, like ducks, leaped to the right or to the 
left into the swamps. The bandits clutched at reeds or at 
grass, or stretched themselves on their bellies, so as not to 
sink at once. 

Only one small group, armed with scythes attached to 
poles, held their ground for some time, defending them- 
selves desperately. Several horsemen were wounded; but 
soon this small group, also, realized that there was no hope 
for them; so they dropped their weapons, sank down on 
their knees and implored for mercy. They were taken alive 
as witnesses. 

Then the riders from both sides stopped and immediately 
began to speak. 

"Halt! Halt! Who are you?” 

" And who are you ?” 

“ Ciprianowicz of Yedlina!” 

"My God! These are our people!” 

And two horsemen immediately came forward from the 
ranks. One of them bent down to Pan Ciprianowicz, 
clasped his hand and began to kiss it, and the other horse- 
man rushed into the priest’s embrace. 

" Stanislav ! ” "Y atzek ! ” 

The embraces and the greetings lasted for a long time; 
Pan Ciprianowicz was the first to come to himself. 

" For heaven’s sake, how do you come here ?” he asked. 

"Our regiment is going to Cracow. Yatzek and I took 
a leave of absence, in order to go to Yedlina; but at 
Eadom we learned that you and Father Voinowski and the 
Bukoyemskis had set out an hour earlier along the road 
toward Keletz.” 

"Did the prelate, Father Tvorkowski, tell it to you?” 

"Ho; some Eadom Jews told us. We did not see the 
prelate at all. When we heard that, we did not go to Yed- 
lina, but started out together with the regiment, knowing 
that we would meet you. Suddenly, at midnight, we heard 


286 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


firing ; so we rushed to give aid, thinking that robbers w T ere 
attacking some travelers. But it never occurred to us that 
you would be attacked. Thank God, thank God that we 
came just in time!” 

“We were not attacked by robbers, but by the Kshepet- 
skis. They wanted to capture Panna Seninska, and she 
is with us.” 

“My God!” exclaimed Stanislav; “Yatzek will die for 
grief.” 

“I wrote you about her, but it seems the letter has not 
reached you.” 

“We have been marching almost three weeks already. 
That is why I have not written to you of late; I was coming 
to see you.” 

Exclamations of joy, uttered by the Bukoyemskis, the 
attendants and the soldiers, interrupted the conversation. 
At that moment other attendants came running, with 
lighted torches in their hands. It became light on the 
ridgeway, as though it were daylight; and by this light 
Tachewski saw a gray horse, and upon it Panna Seninska. 

He became as petrified when he noticed her; and Father 
Voinowski, seeing the young man’s embarrassment, said: 

“Yes, yes; she is also with us.” 

Then Yatzek moved forward, halted his horse before the 
girl ; he bared his head, and remained there as stunned, 
speechless, breathless, his face as white as chalk. 

But a minute later his cap fell from his hand to the 
ground and his head bent down on the horse’s mane. 

“But he is wounded!” exclaimed Lukash Bukoyemski. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


287 


CHAPTER XXV. 

Yatzek was really wounded. One of the bandits who 
defended themselves most desperately struck him with a 
scythe on the left shoulder ; and, since he marched without 
an armor, the edge had cut into his body rather deeply from 
the shoulder to the elbow. The w r ound was not serious, but 
it bled quite profusely, and that is why the young man had 
fainted. The experienced Father Voinowski commanded 
to put him in a wagon, and when the wound had been 
dressed he left him in care of the women. Soon Yatzek 
opened his eyes and again began to look at Panna Seninska, 
who was bending over him ; he gazed at her face as though 
at a holy image. 

Meanwhile the attendants filled the ditch and removed 
all obstructions. Ciprianowicz’s party and the soldiers 
passed to the dry road beyond, where they halted to bring 
the train into order, take some rest and question the pris- 
oners. From Tachewski the priest went to the Bukoyem- 
skis, to see if nothing ill had befallen them. But they were 
well. The horses had suffered, but not seriously. The 
men themselves were in excellent humor, for all were ad- 
miring their valor, saying that they had all crushed before 
war more opponents than many a soldier kills during the 
war. 

“Now, gentlemen, you ought to join Zbierzhkhowski,” 
said several officers, “It has long been known — and God 
grant that men will see soon! — that our regiment is the 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


$88 

first even among hussars. That is why Pan Zbierzhkhowski 
admits no one but worthy knights ; but he will accept you, 
and we shall be delighted to have you in our company.” 

The Bukoyemskis knew that they could not join them, 
because they had not the means demanded in such a high 
regiment; but they listened to these speeches with rapture, 
and when the cups were passed from hand to hand they let 
no man surpass them in that line, either. 

While this was going on the captured bandits were seized 
by their heads and dragged from the mud and brought be- 
fore Pan Zbierzhkhowski and the priest and Pan Serafin. 
No bandits had escaped, for, with a detachment of twelve 
hundred, there were men to surround the whole quagmire 
and both ends oi Ihe ridgeway. The appearance of the 
prisoners astonished Pan Serafin. He had thought to find 
Martsian among them, as he had told Stanislav, and Mart- 
sian’s Radom outcasts, also ; meanwhile he saw before him 
a ragged rabble reeking with turf and bespattered with' 
mud of the ridgeway — a company made up, like all bodies 
of that kind, of deserters from the infantry, of runaway 
servants and serfs; in a word, of all kinds of wicked, wild 
scoundrels, working.at robbery in remote places and forests. 
Many such parties were raging, especially in the wooded 
region of Sandomir; and, since they were strengthened by 
men who were eager for anything — men who, if captured, 
were threatened with terrible punishment — their attacks 
were uncommonly daring, and they fought savage battles. 

While the search in the swamps was continued, Pan Ser- 
afin turned to Zbierzhkhowski and said : 

“ Gracious colonel, these are highway robbers. We 
thought them quite different. This was an attack of com- 
mon bandits. We thank you and all your men for your 
kind assistance, without which we might not have seen the 
sun rise this morning.” 


‘THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


289 

“I like these night marches,” said Zbierzhkhowski, smil- 
ing. “The heat does not trouble you, and it is possible to 
serve others. Do you wish to question these captives im- 
mediately ?” 

“Now that I have looked at them closely, I find it un- 
necessary. The court in the town will examine them, and 
the hangman will do the rest.” 

At this, a tall, bony peasant, with a gloomy face and light 
hair, came forward from among the captives, and said, 
as he bent to Pan Ciprianowicz’s stirrup : 

“Noble lord, spare our lives, and we will tell the truth. 
We are common bandits, but the attack was not in the ordi- 
nary way.” 

The priest and Pan Ciprianowicz, on hearing this, looked 
at each other. 

“Who are you?” asked the priest. 

“I am the chief. There were two of us, for this party 
was formed of two bands; but the other man was killed. 
Pardon us, and we will tell everything.” 

The priest thought for a moment. 

“We cannot save you from justice,” said he, “but for 
you it is better in every case to tell the truth than be forced 
to declare it under torture. If you tell the truth, God’s 
judgment and man’s may be more lenient.” 

The peasant looked at his companions, uncertain whether 
to speak or be silent. Meanwhile the priest added : 

“And if you tell the whole truth we will commend you 
to the mercy of the King. He needs good soldiers now 
and recommends mercy now to judges.” 

“In that case,” said the man, “I will tell everything. 
My name is Obukh ; the leader of the other band was Kos, 
and a noble engaged both of us to attack your graces.” 

“But do you know the name of that noble?” 


290 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“I did not know him, for I am from distant places; but 
Kos knew him and said his name was Vish.” 

The priest and Pan Ciprianowicz looked at each other 
with astonishment. 

“What did you say? Vish?” 

“Yes.” 

“But was there no one with him?” 

“There was another man; he was lean, thin, young.” 

Pan Serafin turned to the priest and whispered : 

' “They.” 

“Or perhaps Martsian’s company?” 

Then he said aloud to the peasant : 

“What did they order you to do?” 

“ This is what he said : ‘Do what you like with the peo- 
ple; the wagons and plunder are yours; but in the party 
there is a young lady, whom you are to take and bring by 
roundabout ways between Kadom and Zvolenye to Polichna. 
Near Polichna our party will attack you and the lady. 
You will pretend to defend her, but do it so as not to harm 
our men. For this you will get a thaler apiece, besides what 
you find in the wagons/ ” 

“That is as clear as if on one palm,” said the priest. 

A moment later he asked again : 

“Did only those two talk with you?” 

“Later at night a third person came with them; he gave 
us a ducat each as earnest money. Though the place was 
as dark as in a cellar, one of our men recognized that third 
person as Pan Kshepetski.” 

“Ha ! That is he !” exclaimed Pan Ciprianowicz. 

“And is that man here, or not?” inquired the priest. 

“Here!” replied a voice from some distance. 

“Come over nearer. You recognized Pan Kshepetski? 
How did you recognize him, since it was pitch-dark ?” 

“Because I have known him from childhood on. I knew 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 291 

him by his bow-legs and his head, which sits as between two 
humps, and by his voice.” 

“Did he speak to you ?” 

“He spoke to us, and afterward I heard him speak to 
those who came with him.” 

“What did he say to them?” 

“He said this: ‘If it had been a question of money, I 
would not have come, even if the night were darker/ ” 
“And will you testify to this before the Mayor in the 
town, or before the Starost in court?” 

“I will.” 

Pan Zbierzhkhowski heard this, and, turning to his at- 
tendants, said : 

“Look after this man with special care.” 


292 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

Then they began to consider the matter. The Bukoy- 
emskis suggested that some peasant woman be dressed up 
as a lady, put on horseback, surrounded with attendants 
and soldiers dressed up as bandits, and taken to the place 
appointed by Martsian, and when Martsian made the at- 
tack, as agreed upon, they should surround him imme- 
diately, and either wreak vengeance on him there, or take 
him to Cracow and deliver him to justice. They offered to 
go themselves at the head of the party, and swore that they 
would throw Martsian at the feet of Panna Seninska. 

This proposal pleased all at the first moment ; but when 
they examined it more carefully, the execution seemed dif- 
ficult — almost impossible. Pan Zbierzhkhowski might res- 
cue from danger people whom he met on his march, but 
he had no right to send soldiers on private expeditions, and 
he had no wish, either, to do so. On the other hand, since 
there was a bandit who knew and was ready to indicate to 
the courts the chief instigator of the ambush, it was pos- 
sible to bring him to account at any moment and to have 
issued against him a sentence of infamy. For this reason 
both Pan Serafin and Father Voinowski grew convinced 
that there would be time for that after the war, since there 
was no fear that the Kshepetskis, who owned large estates, 
would flee and abandon them. This did not please the 
Bukoyemskis; they even declared that, since that was the 
decision, they would go themselves, with their attendants, 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


293 


for Martsian; but Pan Ciprianowicz would not allow this. 
But they felt content when Yatzek implored them by all 
that was sacred to leave Kshepetski to him alone. 

“I,” said he, “will not sue Martsian; but, if all that I 
have heard is true, if I do not fall in the war, I swear, by 
God, that! will find the man, and it will be shown whether 
the verdict of the court would not be pleasanter and easier 
than that which will meet him.” 

And his “maiden” eyes glittered so fiercely that, though 
the Bukoyemskis were unterrified warriors, a shiver went 
through them. They knew well in what a strange manner 
anger and mildness were intertwined in the spirit of Yat- 
zek, together with an ominous remembrance of injustice. 

He repeated several times, “Woe to him! woe to him!” 
and again he grew pale from the loss of blood. It was day- 
break now, and the morning light had tinted the world in 
pink and green colors ; that light sparkled in the dewdrops, 
on the grass and the reeds, and on the tree-leaves and the 
needles of dwarf pines here and there on the edge of the 
quagmire. Pan Zbierzhkhowski had commanded the cap- 
tive bandits to bury the bodies of their fallen comrades, 
which was done very quickly, for the turf opened under 
spades easily ; and, when no trace of battle was left on that 
ridgeway, the march was continued toward Shidlovets. 

Pan Ciprianowicz advised Panna Seninska to sit again 
in the carriage, where she might have a good sleep before 
they reached the next halting place ; but she was so resolute 
in her decision not to desert Yatzek that even Father Voi- 
nowski did not try to dissuade her. So they went together, 
only two besides the driver. Pani Dzvonkowski felt so tired 
and sleepy that she soon went into the carriage. 

Yatzek lay, face upward, on bundles of straw arranged 
lengthwise in one side of the wagon, while Panna Seninska 
sat on the other, bending frequently toward his wounded 


294 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


arm and watching to see if blood were not coming through 
the bandages. From time to time she put a leather bottle 
of old wine to his lips. The wine seemed to have a good 
effect on him, for after a while he was wearied of lying, 
and he ordered the driver to draw out the bundle on which 
his feet were resting. 

“I prefer to ride sitting,” said he, “ since I feel perfectly 
well now.” 

“But the wound? Will it not pain you more?” 

Yatzek turned his eyes to her rosy face, and said, in a 
sad and low voice: “Many years ago King Loketsk saw 
one of his knights pierced with spears by the Knights of 
the Cross on a battlefield, and he asked him whether he 
was suffering greatly. The knight showed his wound then 
and replied : ‘This pains least of all.’ ” 

Panna Seninska lowered her eyelashes. 

“But what pains you more?” she whispered. 

“A longing heart, and separation, and the memory of 
wrongs inflicted.” 

Silence reigned for a minute; hut their hearts began to 
throb faster and faster every moment, for they knew that 
the time had come then in which they could and should 
confess everything which each had against the other. 

“It is true,” said the girl, “I wronged you when, after 
the duel, I received you with angry face and altogether 
inhumanly. But that was the only time, and God alone 
knows how much I regretted that afterward. Still, I say 
it is my fault, and from the depth of my soul I beg your 
forgiveness.” 

Yatzek put his uninjured hand to his forehead. 

“Not that,” he said, “was the sharpest thorn; not that 
caused me the keenest suffering !” 

“I know it was not that, but the letter from Pan Pon- 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


295 


gowski. How could you suspect me of knowing the con- 
tents of the letter or having suggested them ?” 

And in a broken voice she began to tell him how it hap- 
pened: how she had implored Pan Pongowski to make a 
step toward a sincere reconciliation; how he had promised 
to write a fatherly letter, but wrote entirely the opposite. 
Of this she learned only later from Father Yoinowski. It 
showed later that Pan Pongowski had other plans, and 
that he wanted to separate them from each other forever. 

The words of confession awakened in her recollections 
of the painful and bitter days she had lived through; her 
eyes were dimmed with tears, and from constraint and 
shame a deep blush came out on her cheeks. 

“Did Father Yoinowski,” asked she, at last, “not write 
to you that I knew nothing, and that I could not even under- 
stand why I was thus repaid for my sincere feeling?” 

“Father Yoinowski,” answered Yatzek, “only wrote me 
that you were going to marry Pan Pongowski.” 

“But did he not write that I consented to do so only out 
of misery, and out of gratitude to my guardian? For I 
knew not then how he had treated you; I only knew that 
I was despised and forgotten.” 

When Yatzek heard this he closed his eyes and began 
to speak with great sadness : 

“Forgotten? My God! I was at Warsaw, I was at the 
King’s court, I went with my regiment through the coun- 
try; but whatever I did, and wherever I went, you never 
left my heart and my memory for even a single moment. 
You followed me as a man is followed by his shadow. And 
during sleepless nights, in hours of suffering and pain and 
exhaustion, I have more than once called to you: ‘Have 
mercy ! Go away ! Let me forget you !’ But you did not 
leave me at any time, either in the day or in the night, in 
the field or under a house roof. Only then I understood, 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


296 

that I could tear you from my heart only by tearing the 
heart itself from my bosom.” 

Here he stopped, for his voice was choked from emo- 
tion ; but a minute later he continued : 

“ So, after that I often prayed : ‘0 God, grant me death 
on the battlefield, for Thou seest that it is impossible for 
me to attain her, and impossible for me to be without her V 
And that was before I had hoped for the favor of seeing 
you again — you, the only one in the world — you, my love !” 

He inclined toward her and bent his head on her 
shoulder. 

“You,” whispered he, “are as blood which gives life, as 
the sun in the sky. The mercy of God is upon me, that I 
see you once more. 0 beloved ! beloved !” 

And it seemed to her that Yatzek was singing some won- 
derful song. Her eyes were filled with a wave of tears, and 
a wave of happiness flooded her heart. Again there was 
silence between them ; but the girl wept long, shedding tears 
of joy such as she had never known in her life till that 
morning. 

“Yatzek,” said she, at last, “why have we suffered so 
much ?” 

“God has rewarded us a hundredfold,” he answered; and 
for the third time there was silence between them. 

Only the wagons squeaked, making forward slowly over 
the wide, sandy road. Beyond the forest they came out 
into great fields bathed in sunlight; on those fields wheat 
was rustling, dotted richly with red poppies and blue star 
thistles. There was great calm in that region. Above 
fields on which the grain had been reaped here and there 
skylarks were soaring, lost in song, motionless; on the 
edges of the fields sickles glittered in the distance; from 
the remoter green pastures came the cries and songs of 
men herding cattle. And it seemed to both of them that the 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


297 

wheat was rustling for their sake; that the poppies and the 
star thistles were blooming for their sake; that the larks 
were singing for their sake; that the calls of the herdsmen 
were uttered for their sake; that all the sunny peace about 
them and all those voices were simply repeating their hap- 
piness and peace. 

They were roused from this sweet oblivion by Father 
Voinowski, who had approached the wagon unnoticed. 

“How are you, Yatzek?” asked he. 

Yatzek quivered and looked with shining eyes at him, as 
if just roused from sleep. 

“What is it, benefactor ?” 

“I am asking you how you are.” 

“Eh ! I will not be better in paradise !” 

The priest looked closely, first at him, then at the girl. 

“So that’s what it is?” he said; and he immediately gal- 
loped back to the company. 

But the delightful reality came upon them anew. 

Yatzek looked at her for a long time, and said : 

“I can’t look long enough at you.” 

She lowered her eyes, smiled at the corners of her lips 
till it appeared in her rosy cheeks. 

“But is not Panna Zbierzhkhowski better ?” 

Yatzek looked at her with amazement. 

“What Panna Zbierzhkhowski?” 

She made no answer; she simply laughed with a laugh 
which sounded like a silver bell. 

When the priest had galloped to the company, the men, 
who loved Yatzek, began to ply him with questions : 

“Well, how is it there? How is our wounded man?” 

“He is no longer in this world!” replied Father Voi- 
nowski. 

“ 0 Lord ! what has happened ? What do you mean ?” 


298 ’ 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


“He is not in this world, for he says that he is in para- 
dise. Mulier!” (a woman). 

The Bukoyemskis, as men who understand all that is 
said to them in its literal sense, did not cease to look at the 
priest with astonishment, and, removing their caps, were 
just ready to say, “Eternal rest,” when a general outbreak 
of laughter interrupted their pious thoughts and inten- 
tion. But in that laughter of the company there was sin- 
cere good-will and sympathy for Yatzek. Some of the men 
had learned from Pan Stanislav that he was an emotional 
knight, hence the words of the priest delighted them 
greatly. 

Some one suggested to shout in their honor and wish 
them good health and good fortune. 

In one moment, almost, the whole regiment had sur- 
rounded Yatzek and Panna Seninska. Loud voices thun- 
dered, “ Vivant! floreant !” Others added, “Crescite et mul- 
tipliacamioni !” Whether Panna Seninska was really 
frightened by these cries, or rather, as an “insidious 
woman,” she only feigned fright, Father Voinowski himself 
could not decide. It is enough that, pressing her fair head 
to the unwounded shoulder of Yatzek, she asked, con- 
fusedly : 

“What is this, Yatzek? What are they doing?” 

He embraced her, and replied : 

“People are giving you away to me, dearest flower, and 
I take you.” 

“After the war?” 

“Before the war.” 

“In God’s name! why so soon?” 

But it was evident that Yatzek had not heard this ques- 
tion, for, instead of replying, he said to her : 

“Let us bow to the dear comrades for this good-will and 
thank theu!. ,, 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


299 


And they bowed toward both sides, which roused still 
greater enthusiasm among the knights. 

Seeing the maiden’s blushing face, which was as beauti- 
ful as the morning dawn, the warriors struck their thighs 
for admiration. 

"By God !” cried some, “it is dazzling !” 

“Even an angel would fall in love with her; what can a 
sinful man do ?” 

“It is no wonder that he was withering with sorrow.” 

And again hundreds of voices thundered more power- 
fully : 

“ Vivant ! crescant! floreani!” 

Thus shouting, they entered Shidlovets amidst clouds of 
golden dust. At the first moment the inhabitants were 
frightened, and, leaving their workshops and their stores, 
they ran to their houses. But on learning that those were 
exclamations of joy, not of anger, they rushed in a crowd 
to the street and followed the soldiers. The drums of the 
hussars were beaten, the trumpets and the horns sounded. 
The merriment became general. Even the Jews, who, 
through fear, had remained longer in their houses, shouted 
“Vivant!” though but few of them knew what was going 
on there. 

And Tachewski said to Panna Seninska : 

“Before the war! Before the war, even though I were 
to die an hour later.” 


300 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

“How is that?” asked the priest, during the dinner 
given in Yatzek’s honor by his comrades. “We shall start 
in five or six days from now. Who knows? — you may die 
in the war. Is it worth while marrying just before starting 
for the battlefield? Would it not be better to wait for the 
happy ending of the war and then marry ?” 

When Yatzek’s friends heard these sensible words they 
burst out laughing. Some of them clasped their sides; 
others cried in unison : “Oh, it is worth while, benefactor ! 
And just because he may die it is all the more worth while.” 

Father Voinowski was somewhat angry; but the three 
hundred best men, Stanislav among them, insisted, and 
Yatzek himself would not hear of delay, so the wedding 
had to take place then. Their re-established relations with 
the court and the favor of the King and the Queen helped 
the matter considerably. The Queen extended an offer to 
protect the future Pani Tachewski until after the end of 
the war, and the King himself promised to be present at 
the wedding and to think of an appropriate dowry when 
affairs of the State did not occupy his mind so much. He 
knew that many estates belonging to the Seninskas had 
passed to the Sobieskis ; he knew that many of his ancestors 
had become strong through them. So he now felt that he 
was greatly indebted to the orphan, whose beauty had also 
disposed him favorably toward her, and whose sad fate and 
sufferings had aroused in him compassion for her, 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 301 

Pan Matchinski, an old friend of Father Voinowski, and 
also a friend of the King, promised to remind the King of 
the young lady after the war ; for at the time when the fate 
of Europe and of Christendom was resting on the shoulders 
of Y an III. it would be a sacrilege to bother him with pri- 
vate affairs. This promise cheered Father Voinowski as 
much as though Yatzek had already received a “royal 
estate,” for he knew that Pan MatchinskPs word carried 
much weight and was sure of fulfillment. In fact, he was 
responsible for all the good which had come to Panna Se- 
ninska in Cracow. It was he who mentioned Father Voi- 
nowski to the King and the Queen ; it was he who won the 
favor of the Queen for the young lady — the Queen, though 
fickle and somewhat capricious, showed her special friend- 
ship from the very first moment, something which was alto- 
gether unusual. 

Through the protection of the court and the kind favor 
of the Bishop of Cracow a dispensation from banns was 
secured without difficulty. Before this, Pan Ciprianowiez 
had obtained a beautiful house for the young couple. There 
were so many civil and military officials of high rank in 
the city that it was difficult to find a good house unoccu- 
pied, and many a Voyevoda could not obtain so fine a lodg- 
ing as that secured by Ciprianowiez for Yatzek. Stanislav 
decided that Yatzek should spend the few days before the 
war in a real paradise, as it were. He beautified the house 
with fresh flowers and tapestry; other comrades helped 
him cheerfully, each of them lending rugs, tapestry, car- 
pets, or similar valuable articles, which were taken along 
even to war in wealthy regiments. 

Everybody showed the young couple the greatest good- 
will — everybody with the exception of the Bukoyemskis. 
During the first few days of their stay in Cracow the Bu- 
koyemskis came twice a day to Stanislav and to Yatzek, 


302 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


and to merchants at the inns, with whom officers of Prince 
Alexander’s regiment drank frequently; but soon the four 
brothers disappeared as if they had been drowned. Father 
Yoinowski was of the opinion that they were drinking 
somewhere in the suburbs of Cracow, where some servants 
had met them, and where mead and wine were cheaper than 
in the city; but after that no one knew anything of their 
whereabouts. The priest and the Ciprianowiczs were very 
angry, for they had done so much for them, and they should 
not have forgotten it. 

“They may be splendid warriors,” said Father Yoinow- 
ski, “but they are fickle-minded fellows and unreliable. 
They must have found some wild company which is more 
to their taste than our company.” 

This supposition proved to he wrong, however, for on the 
eve of Yatzek’s wedding, when his house was filled with 
friends who had come with presents and good wishes, the 
four Bukoyemskis made their appearance in their very best 
clothes. They looked calm, serious, and there was an air 
of mystery about them. 

“Where have you been?” asked Pan Ciprianowiez. 

“We have been hunting a wild beast !” replied Lukash. 

“Be quiet!” cried Matvey, striking him on the side. 
“Don’t say a word until the time comes.” 

He glanced at Father Yoinowski, at Pan Serafin and at 
Stanislav, and then, turning to Yatzek, coughed, to clear 
his throat, like a man preparing to speak at length. 

“Well, go ahead; speak out, now!” urged the other Bu- 
koyemskis. 

But he stared at them, wide-eyed, and asked : 

“How was it?” 

“ How ? Have you forgotten ?” 

“Pm afraid I have.” 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 303 

“Hold on! I know !” cried Yan. “It began: ‘Our most 
esteemed ■’ Go ahead !” 

“ Our most esteemed Pilate ! ” began Matvey. 

“Why ‘Pilate’ ?” interrupted the priest. “Perhaps it is 
Pylades ?” 

“Benefactor, you’ve just guessed it right,” exclaimed 
Yan. “As true as I live, it is Pylades.” 

“Our esteemed Pylades!” repeated Matvey, reassured; 
“though not the iron Boristhenes, but the golden Tagus 
were to flow in our region, we, having been exiled through 
attacks of savages, would have but our hearts filled with 
friendship to offer to you, nor could we honor this day 
properly by any offering of thanks ” 

“You speak as though you were cracking nuts!” ex- 
claimed Lukash, excitedly. 

But Matvey kept on repeating : 

“ Properly — properly ” 

He stopped, gazed at his brothers, winked to them to help 
him out; but they had also forgotten that which was to 
follow. 

The Bukoyemskis began to frown, and those about them 
sneered. Noticing this, Pan Ciprianowicz resolved to come 
to their aid, and he asked : 

“Who composed this speech for you?” 

“Pan Gromika, of Pan Shumlanski’s regiment,” replied 
Matvey. 

“There you are. A strange horse is likely to be more 
unruly than your own. So you had better embrace Yatzek 
now and tell him just what you want to say.” 

“That’s the best way.” 

They embraced Yatzek, one after another; and then Mat- 
vey continued : 

“Yatzek, we know that you are not Pilate, and you know 
that since our estates around Kiel were lost we are poor 


304 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


fellows, we are naked. Here is all we can give, and accept 
even this with gratitude.” 

He handed to Yatzek some object tied around with a 
piece of red satin, and the three younger brothers repeated, 
earnestly : 

“Accept it, Yatzus, accept it! accept it!” 

“I accept, and may God reward you,” replied Yatzek. 

Saying this, he placed the object on the table and began 
to unfold the satin. Suddenly he started back, and cried : 

“By God, it is the ear of a man !” 

“But do you know whose ear it is? Martsian Kshepet- 
ski’s !” thundered the brothers. 

The astonishment of those present was so great that all 
maintained silence. 

“Tfu!” cried Father Yoinowski, at length. And, sur- 
veying the Bukoyemskis with a stem glance, he said, facing 
the eldest: 

“Are you Turks to bring here the ears of beaten ene- 
mies? You are a disgrace to this Christian army and to 
all nobles. If Kshepetski deserved death, if he were a 
pagan, even then it would be a disgrace to do what you 
have done. Perhaps you have delighted Yatzek; but let 
me tell you that for this act of yours you should expect con- 
tempt, not gratitude. There is not a regiment in all the 
cavalry, or even in the infantry, which would accept such 
savages as comrades.” 

At this Matvey came forward and said, burning with 
rage : 

“Here’s gratitude! here’s reward! here’s justice! If a 
layman had said this to us, I would have cut off both his 
ears; but since a clergyman says this, let the Lord Jesus 
judge him and take the part of the innocent ! You ask us, 
‘Are you Turks?’ but I ask, ‘Do you think that we cut off 
the ear of a dead man?’ Brothers, innocent orphans, see 


the field of glory. 305 

to what we have come ! They make Turks of us, enemies 
of our own faith ! ” 

His voice quivered, for his rage was now overcome with 
sorrow. The other brothers burst out crying, sorrowfully: 

“They make Turks of us !” 

“Enemies of our faith !” 

“Base pagans!” 

“Tell us, then, how it was,” said Father Voinowski. 

“Lukash cut off Martsian’s ear in a duel.” 

“Was Kshepetski here?” 

“He came to Cracow.” “He was here five days.” “He 
followed us !” 

“Let one speak at a time. You speak, but to the point,” 
said the priest, turning to Yan. 

“An acquaintance of ours from the regiment of the 
Bishop of Soudomir,” began Yan, the youngest, “somehow 
told us three days ago that he had seen a queer man in a 
dram-shop on Kazimir Street. ‘He looked like a stump of 
a tree/ he said, ‘with a big head resting between two humps ; 
he had short, crooked legs, and he drank like a dragon. 
An uglier monkey I have not seen in all my life/ he said. 
And we, endowed by the Lord Jesus with quick perception, 
grasped everything in an instant, and exchanged glances. 
‘That must be Martsian Kshepetski P we thought ; and then 
we said to the man, ‘Take us to the dram-shop P and he 
took us. It was rather dark there; but we looked for some 
time, then we saw something black behind a table in the 
corner of the room. Lukash walked over to the table, and 
the man behind it soon saw stars before his eyes. ‘Mart- 
sian P he cried, grabbing him by the shoulder. We drew 
our swords. Kshepetski jumped back, but saw that there 
was no escape for him, because we blocked the doorway. 
But he jumped up again several times. ‘Do you think I am 


306 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


afraid?’ he cried. ‘Come at me one by one, not all at once, 
unless you are murderers, not nobles !’ ” 

“The rascal!” interrupted the priest. 

“Lukash asked him: ‘What were you trying to do with 
us ? You rascal, you hired a gang of cut-throats to attack 
us ! We ought to turn you over to the hangman, hut this 
is a shorter way !’ Then he advanced toward him, and they 
began to strike each other. After the third or fourth blow 
we saw Kshepetski’s head bent down on one side. I looked, 
and there was an ear on the ground. Matvey picked it up 
at once, and cried : ‘Don’t cut off the other one. Leave that 
for us! This will be for Yatzek, and the other one for 
Panna Seninska !’ But Martsian dropped his sword, for 
he was bleeding dreadfully, and then he fainted. We 
poured water over his head and wine into his mouth to re- 
vive him, so that he could meet the next one of us. He re- 
covered, and said to us: ‘Now that you have sought justice 
yourselves, you cannot seek any other justice.’ But he 
fainted again. Then we went away, regretting that we did 
not get the other ear. Lukash says that he could have 
killed him, but he spared him for us, and particularly for 
Yatzek. Well, I don’t know if anybody in our place would 
have acted differently, for it is no sin to crush such vermin 
as Martsian; but it seems that it does not pay to do the 
proper thing nowadays, since we have to suffer for it now.” 

“True ! He is right !” cried the other Bukoyemskis. 

“Well, under such circumstances it is altogether a dif- 
ferent matter,” said Father Voinowski; “still, the gift is 
inappropriate.” 

The brothers regarded each other for some time with 
amazement. 

“Why inappropriate?” asked Marek. “You do not think 
we brought it for Yatzek to eat, do you?” 

“I thank you from the depth of my soul for your good 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


307 


wishes,” said Pan Tachewski. “I am sure you have not 
brought it to me that I should store it away.” 

“It has turned somewhat green ; it might be smoked and 
dried.” 

“Let some one bury it at once,” said the priest, sternly. 
“It is the ear of a Christian, anyway.” 

“We were treated better than this in Kiev,” grumbled 
Matvey. 

“Kshepetski must have come to Cracow to plan a new 
attack on Anusya,” remarked Yatzek. 

“He will not take her away from the palace of the King,” 
said Pan Ciprianowicz ; “but, if I am not mistaken, he did 
not eome for that purpose. I think that he wanted to find 
out whether we know that he had planned the attack on 
us, and whether we have complained against him. It may 
be that old Kshepetski knew nothing of his son’s under- 
taking; but, if he did, both of them must be greatly 
alarmed, and I should not at all be surprised if Martsian 
had come here to find out how the matter stood.” 

“He has no luck with the Bukoyemskis, it seems,” said 
Stanislav, laughing. 

“Let him go,” declared Pan Tachewski. “To-day I am 
ready to forgive him.” 

The Bukoyemskis and Stanislav were astonished to hear 
Yatzek’s words, for they knew the stubbornness of the 
young knight. When Tachewski noticed this, he added, as 
though answering them : 

“For Anusya will soon be mine, and to-morrow I shall 
be a Christian warrior and defender of our faith, and as 
such my heart shall be free from all personal enmity.” 

“May God bless you for that !” cried the priest. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


308 1 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

At last Tachewski’s long-wished-for day of happiness 
arrived. A rumor spread among the citizens of Cracow, 
and was repeated from mouth to mouth with surprise, that 
there was a knight in the army who was getting married, 
only to start for the battlefield on the day after the wed- 
ding. When it also became known that the King and 
the Queen would be present at the marriage ceremony, 
crowds began to gather in and about the church from 
early morning. The crowd had swelled to such propor- 
tions that officers were required in order to make room for 
the guests to pass. Pan Tachewski’s friends were all there 
to a man; they came out of friendship and good-will to 
Yatzek, and also because they were eager to be seen in a 
company where the King himself would be present and 
to meet him socially. Many officers of high rank appeared, 
also, even people who had never before known of Pan Ta- 
chewski ; for it was known that the Queen favored the mar- 
riage, and almost everything depended on the Queen’s in- 
clination and favor at the court. 

People of high and low degrees were all surprised that 
the King should find time to attend the wedding of an 
ordinary officer just when the fate of the whole republic 
was resting on his shoulders, and when couriers from for- 
eign lands came daily rushing on foaming horses. Some 
people looked upon this as a desire on the part of the 
King to win the favor of the army ; others said that there 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


309 

must be some bonds of kinship between the royal family 
and the bridegroom or bride; still others ridiculed these 
suppositions. 

The Seninskas were hardly remembered by the people; 
so, to avoid every calumny and gossip, the King announced 
that the Sobieskis were greatly indebted to that family. 
Then society people began to take an interest in Panna 
Seninska; and, as is usual at courts, they now pitied her, 
now they were touched by her sufferings, and now they 
praised her virtue and beauty. Reports as to her beauty 
reached even the masses, and at last, when they saw her, 
they were not at all disappointed. 

She arrived in church with the Queen. All eyes were 
first turned to that lofty lady, who was still brilliantly 
charming, like the bright sun before evening; but when 
they looked at the bride all whispered, and even some loud 
voices were heard : 

“Marvelous! marvelous! The man who sees such a 
woman even once in his life owes much to his eyes.” 

And it was true. In those days brides were not dressed 
in white for the wedding; but the young ladies arrayed 
Panna Seninska in white, for such was her wish, and that 
was the color of her finest dress. Thus, attired in white, 
with a green wreath over her golden hair, pale-faced and 
somewhat confused, with downcast eyes, silent, slender, she 
looked like a snow-white swan, or like a white lily. Even 
Yatzek was astonished when he saw her now. 

“My God!” he said to himself. “How can I go near 
her ? She is a queen, or an angel, with whom it is a sin to 
spea'k unless kneeling.” 

When he and Anusya knelt side by side before the altar, 
and Father Voinowski said, with emotion, “I knew you 
both when you were little children,” and joined their hands ; 
and when he heard his own voice saying, “I take you as 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


310 

my wife,” and the hymn resounded a moment later, Yatzek 
felt as though his bosom would burst with happiness, espe- 
cially now that he was not wearing his armor. He had 
loved Anusya from childhood, and he knew that he loved 
her, but now he realized for the first time how great his 
love was. And he said to himself again: “I must die, for 
if a man were to have so much happiness during life, what 
more could there be for him in heaven?” But he felt that 
before he died he must thank God. And suddenly there 
appeared before his eyes a picture of Turkish legions, of 
beards, turbans, sashes, bent swords and standards. And 
a prayer burst forth from his heart : “0 Lord, I will thank 
Thee ! I will thank Thee !” And he felt that he would 
become as a terrible lion unto those enemies of the cross 
and the faith. But this vision vanished in an instant, and 
a wave of boundless love and happiness rushed to his heart. 

By this time the ceremony was over; the guests started 
for the house prepared for the young couple by Stanislav 
and ornamented by his comrades. Yatzek could press the 
young Pani Tachewski to his bosom only for a brief mo- 
ment, for they had to run to meet the King and Queen, 
who had just arrived from the church. Two high arm- 
chairs stood by the table, prepared for the royal pair. After 
the royal blessing, during which the newly married couple 
were kneeling, Yatzek begged their majesties to the wed- 
ding feast ; but the King declined, saying : 

“Dear comrade, I should be glad to talk with you, and 
still more with you, my relative” — he turned to Pani Ta- 
chewski — “and discuss your dowry. I can stay only for 
a moment and drink your health ; but I have no time to sit 
down with you, for my mind is occupied with so many im- 
portant affairs that every hour is precious.” 

“That’s true !” cried a number of voices. 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


311 

Pan Tachewski clasped the feet of the King, who took 
a filled goblet from the table and said : 

“ Esteemed gentlemen, I drink the health of the young 
couple !” 

“ Vivant! crescant! florecint!” shouted some in the 
crowd. 

Then the King spoke again, addressing Tachewski : 

“Your happiness must be brief now. You may remain 
here a few days, but then you must follow your regiment 
quickly, for we shall not wait.” 

“It is easier for her to remain without you than for 
Vienna without us,” said Pan Matchinski, smiling at 
Tachewski. 

“But Lubormirski is mowing down the Turks there,” 
said one of the hussars. 

“I have good news from our men,” said the King. “I 
have commanded Matchinski to bring it here, to be read 
before you and cheer the hearts of our warriors. It is 
from the Duke of Lorraine, commander-in-chief for the 
Emperor ; he writes me about the battle near Pressburg.” 

And he read slowly, for the letter was in the French 
language, and he read it to the nobles in Polish : 

“The Emperor’s cavalry advanced effectively and en- 
thusiastically, but the Poles left no work for the Germans. 
I know of no words adequate enough to praise the strength, 
courage and bearing of the officers and men under Pan 
Lubomirski.” 

“ ‘The battle/ writes the Duke of Lorraine, ‘was a great 
one, and our glory not less/ ” 

“We will show that we can do as well,” cried the war- 
riors. 

“I am confident; but we must make haste, for later ad- 
vices show signs for alarm. Vienna is barely able to breathe, 


31 % THE FIELD OF GLORYV 

and all Christendom looks toward us for aid. Shall we 
be there in season?” 

“But few regiments have remained here; the main foices 
are stationed at the heights of Tarkow, waiting, under the 
command of the hetman,” said Father Yoinowski; “but if 
we are all needed at Vienna, we are not needed so much 
as a leader like Your Boyal Highness.” 

The King smiled, and replied : 

“That is exactly what the Duke of Lorraine writes. Well, 
then, gentlemen, be ready, for I may order the sounding 
of the trumpets at any hour.” 

“When, Your Royal Highness?” asked a number of 
voices. 

“To-morrow I will send off the regiments which are still 
here,” said the King, seriously; then he glanced at Ta- 
chewski, as though to test him. “As Her Grace the Queen 
will go with us to the Heights to see the review of the 
troops there, you may remain here, if you promise to over- 
take us at the appointed time. Unless, perhaps, you wish 
to ask of us another office.” 

Yatzek Tachewski put his arm around his wife, and both 
advanced a step toward the King. 

“Your Royal Highness,” said Yatzek, “if the German 
Empire or even the Kingdom of France were offered to me 
in exchange for this lady, the Lord, who sees the depths of 
my heart, knows that I would not accept either, and that 
I would not give her for the greatest treasure in existence. 
But God forbid that I should forsake my service, or lose 
an opportunity, or neglect a religious war, or desert my 
leader because of my private happiness. I should despise 
myself if I did it, and she, I know, would also despise me. 
If misfortune should bar the road and I could not join 
you, I would be consumed with shame and sorrow.” 

Tears glistened in his eyes, his cheeks were flushed ; and 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


313 

he added, in a voice quivering with emotion : “ To-day I 
swore before the altar. I said: ‘0 Lord, I will thank 
Thee! I will thank Thee! Only with my life, with my 
blood, with my work, could I repay for the happiness which 
is mine now ! Therefore I shall not ask for any new office, 
and when you start, 0 gracious King and leader, I shall 
not linger even a single day behind you. I shall go at the 
same time that all will go, even though I were to die to- 
morrow.” 

He sank down on his knees at the feet of the King, who 
bent forward, embraced his head, and said: 

“With more such men as you the Polish name will re- 
sound throughout the world !” 

Father Voinowskfis eyes filled with tears; the Bukoyem- 
skis were crying aloud. Every man present was seized with 
emotion and enthusiasm. 

“On to the pagans! For our faith !” thundered a great 
number of voices. Then there was a clanking of swords. 
When the noise had somewhat subsided, Pani Tachewski, 
pale-faced, bent to Y atzek’s ear and whispered : 

“Oh, Yatzek, be not surprised at my tears, for I fear 
that if you go I may never see you again — but go !” 


314 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

But Yatzek and Anusya remained together for two days. 
The King, it is true, started on the day after the wedding; 
but the Queen, with all the ladies of the court and a great 
number of officials of high rank, accompanied the King to 
the Heights of Tarnow, where a great review of the troops 
had been ordered. The party traveled slowly, and it was 
easy to overtake it. The subsequent advance of the forces, 
led by the King, to Vienna was regarded by the world as 
remarkable for its swiftness, especially since the King ar- 
rived some time before the main army; but it took the 
Queen and her party almost six days to reach the Heights 
of Tarnow. The Tachewskis joined them with their escort 
on the third day. Pani Tachewski took her seat then in 
a court carriage, while Yatzek hurried to the camp to join 
his regiment. On the twenty-second of August the King 
solemnly bade his beloved “Marisenka” farewell. In the 
morning he mounted and marshaled the troops before her ; 
then he started out, leading it to Glvitsi. 

The people noticed that whenever the King had to bid 
the Queen farewell he did so with profound sorrow; for 
he loved her with all his heart, and was grieved even by a 
brief absence. Yet this time he looked cheerful and ra- 
diant. This encouraged the statesmen and the clergy 
present. They realized the gravity of the war, especially 
since the enemy was advancing with greater forces than 
ever before. “The Turks have moved three parts of the 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


315 


world,-” they thought; “but if the King, their greatest de- 
stroyer, goes so cheerfully to the struggle, we should have 
no cause for anxiety.” And their hearts filled with hope, 
and as the warriors were passing by them their hope kept 
increasing, until it turned into complete confidence in vic- 
tory. As far as the eye could reach the sun was shining 
on helmets, on armor, on swords, on muskets and cannon. 
The glitter dazzled the eyes of the onlookers. Banners and 
ensigns of rainbow colors waved in the blue air above the 
marching troops. The rolling of drums among the infan- 
try regiments was mingled with the sounds of trumpets 
and horns, and with the noise of the janizari orchestra, 
and the neighing of horses. 

The royal carriage stopped on a somewhat elevated plain, 
by the right side of the road, along which the regiments 
were to pass. In the first carriage sat the Queen, wearing 
plumes, laces and velvet bedecked with precious stones. She 
was beautiful, majestic, with the air of a woman possessing 
all that the most daring imagination could design ; she had 
a crown, and the love of the most glorious of contemporary 
kings. Like the statesmen and the clergy, she felt con- 
fident that her husband, on horseback, would again lead 
his forces to triumph, as he had done before. And she felt 
that at that moment the eyes of the whole world, from 
Tsargrad to Borne, Madrid and Paris, were fixed on him, 
that all Christendom was stretching out hands to him, and 
that only in the iron arms of his warriors did they see sal- 
vation. The Queen’s heart was now filled with pride. “ Our 
power is increasing,” she said to herself, “and we shall be 
glorious above all other kings.” And therefore, though her 
husband was leading but a little over twenty thousand men 
against countless hordes of the enemy, her heart neverthe- 
less was filled with joy, and her white forehead was not for 
a moment obscured with alarm or anxiety. 


316 the field of glory. 

“ Behold the victor, behold your father, the King,” she 
said to her children, who filled the carriage like little birds 
in a nest. “When he comes back the whole world will kneel 
before him with prayers and thanks.” 

In the carriages behind that of the Queen were many 
charming court ladies, bishops and the dignified, grave- 
faced statesmen who remained at home to hold the reins 
of government in the absence of the King. The King, at 
the head of the army, stood out clearly on the height, like 
a giant on horseback. It looked to the onlookers as though 
the army was to pass before him, at his feet. 

First came Pan Kantski’s artillery, with the rolling 
sound of drums ; after it came the infantry regiments, car- 
rying muskets, led by officers with swords hanging on straps 
at their sides, and with long canes, with which they kept 
all ranks in order. These soldiers marched four abreast 
and looked like a moving fortress; their steps kept time 
and produced a thundering noise. 

Each regiment, passing Her Majesty’s carriage, saluted 
by a loud shout and lowered its ensign. Among the regi- 
ments were some with better outfits than others; but the 
best-looking regiment of all was made up of Kashubians in 
blue coats and yellow belts for ammunition. These Kashu- 
bians, tall, strong men, had been so carefully picked, one 
by one, that they all looked like brothers ; the heavy muskets 
in their powerful hands looked like walking-canes. At the 
sound of the fife they stepped before the King as one man, 
and presented arms so faultlessly that he smiled with de- 
light; and the statesmen said to one another: “The Sul- 
tan’s own bodyguard would fare ill if they were to strike 
against these fellows. They are lions, not human beings !” 

Soon came squadrons of light horse, and each rider 
seemed as though grown together to his horse. These were 
worthy descendants of the horsemen who had trampled all 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


317 


Germany, mowing down with their swords or sweeping oil 
with the hoofs of their horses entire regiments of Luther’s 
defenders. The heaviest cavalry in the world, of the same 
number of men, could not defeat them, and the lightest 
could not escape from them. The King himself had said 
of these men at Khotim : “When they are brought to the 
enemy they will cut down all before them as a mower cuts 
down the grass.” And though they now moved slowly as 
they passed by the carriages, even those unfamiliar with 
warfare knew at once that at the proper moment nothing 
but a hurricane could surpass them in swiftness, in power 
to overthrow and destroy. Amidst the sounds of trumpets 
and drums they marched on, squadron after squadron, their 
drawn swords quivering like flashes of flame in the brilliant 
sunlight. Having passed the court carriages, they ad- 
vanced like a suddenly onrushing wave, changing their trot 
to a gallop, and, having formed a giant circle, they passed 
again, and this time they rushed past and near the Queen’s 
carriage like a whirlwind, shouting, “Strike ! Strike !” In 
their uplifted right hands they held their swords, pointed 
forward as if attacking. Their horses, with nostrils ex- 
panded to the utmost and manes tossed by the wind, 
seemed as though wild from the impetus of their onrush. 
Thus they passed again by the Queen’s carriage, and then 
they suddenly halted, without breaking ranks. 

This they did so perfectly that foreigners, of whom there 
were many at that court, and who saw then for the first 
time Polish cavalry in action, regarded one another with 
amazement, as though doubting their own eyes. 

After they had passed, the dragoons appeared on the 
field, as though strewing it with blossoms. Some of these 
regiments were under Pan Yablonowski; others had been 
gathered by private magnates, and one was maintained by 


318 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


the King from his own private fortune. This regiment was 
commanded by Pan Maligni, the brother of the Queen. 

The dragoons were composed mostly of plain people ; but 
these men were trained to riding from childhood; they 
were experienced in fighting, stubborn and enduring under 
fire. 

But only when the hussars appeared were the greatest 
enthusiasm and delight aroused in the spectators. They 
advanced slowly, with an air of importance becoming such 
valuable regiments. Their horses were heavier than those 
in other squadrons; their steel breast-plates were inlaid 
with gold. On their shoulders were wings, the feathers of 
which, tossed by the wind, produced the rustling sound 
heard in forests. 

The great dignity and pride with which they moved for- 
ward made so deep an impression that the Queen, the court 
ladies, the statesmen, and especially the foreigners, stood 
up in their carriages in order to gain a better view. There 
was something terrible and tremendous in that march, for 
it came to the minds of the spectators that there was no 
human power that could cheek this avalanche of iron if it 
should rush forward, leaving destruction in its wake; for 
it was not so long before that three thousand such horse- 
men had ground into dust Swedish hosts which outnum- 
bered them five to one. Still more recent was the day when 
a single squadron like that had rushed, like a spirit of de- 
struction, through the entire army of Karl Gustav ; and not 
long ago, at Khotim, these same hussars, led by the King, 
had crushed the Turkish guards as easily as though they 
had mowed down wheat in the fields. Many of the men 
who had participated in the battle of Khotim now rode 
proudly, calmly and confidently, ready to start now toward 
the walls of a foreign city to reap a new harvest. 

These horsemen seemed the embodiment of terror and 

X92 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 319 

power. Suddenly a breeze rose behind them, whistling in 
their streamers, tossing forward the manes of the horses 
and waving the wings at the shoulders of each mounted 
warrior; and the Spanish horses drawing the court car- 
riages grew restless. The squadrons now passed the car- 
riages at a distance of about twenty yards only. It was 
then that Pani Tachewski saw her husband for the last 
time before the expedition. He rode in the second row at 
the side of the regiment, in iron and winged armor, his 
helmet covering his cheeks completely. His large bay 
horse carried him easily, despite the heavy armor, his head 
uplifted high, snorting loudly, as if in good omen for the 
rider. Yatzek turned his iron-coveTed head toward his 
wife; his lips stirred as though whispering; but, though 
she heard no words, she understood that he was uttering, 
“Farewell! farewell !” and her heart filled with painful 
longing and with love, and she felt that she would have 
sacrificed her life if she could only turn into a swallow at 
that moment and perch on his shoulder, or on the flag at- 
tached to his lance, and follow him. 

“Farewell, Yatzek! May God guard you!” she cried, 
outstretching her arms toward him. Her eyes were filled 
with tears as he rode past her solemnfy, flashing in the sun- 
light, and sanctified, as it seemed to her, by his great 
mission. 

Behind this regiment came that of Prince Alexander, 
followed by others, also both terrible and brilliant. Other 
regiments formed a vast circle and kept marching. 

The people in the carriages on the height could see al- 
most all the regiments. Crimson uniforms, flashing breast- 
plates, glittering swords and a forest of lances moved on 
and on under great banners which looked like giant flowers. 
The odor of horse-foam was wafted by the breeze from the 
regiments nearby, and the people in the carriages heard 


320 


THE FIELD OF GLORY. 


distinctly the shouts of the commanding officers, the shrill 
sounds of fifes and the deep rolling sounds of the drums. 
And there was a note of triumph in all those sounds, in 
all that enthusiasm and eagerness for battle. Every heart 
was filled with complete confidence in the victory of the 
cross over the crescent. 

The King remained for some time by the carriage of the 
Queen. Then the blessing was pronounced over him with 
a cross and with relics by the Bishop of Cracow, and he 
immediately galloped away to the army. Sounds of trum- 
pets suddenly smote the air, and infantry and cavalry regi- 
ments stirred, slowly falling into line, then starting off 
westward. First went the light-horse brigade, behind the 
hussars, the dragoons forming the rear end. 

The Bishop of Cracow raised the cross with both hands 
and said : 

“0 God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, have mercy on 
Thy people !” 

At that moment more than twenty thousand voices burst 
forth, singing the hymn composed for that occasion by Pan 
Kokhowski : 

“For thee, 0 pure, immaculate Virgin, we go to fight for 
Christ our Lord. For thee, our dear country; for you, 0 
white eagles, we will crush all enemies on the field of 
glory.” 


THE END. 


























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1 1 1 Ttiomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Twp., PA 16066 
(412)779-2111 





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